What is the danger of the narrations we make?



What is the danger of the narrations we make? (Novel)

Novel: A Carefully Constructed Sentence

“The dream reveals the reality, which conception lags behind. That is the horror of life—the terror of art.”   -Franz Kafka                                            

What is the danger of the narrations we make?
What are the implications of not being aware of those narratives?

Unconsciously we exist in a circle—we live our whole lives inside that circle. Writing is a  journey, an action of understanding what we circle—and in this work my intention is to look closely at how I narrate my life.

The story is about a woman on the cusp of leaving her husband who becomes consumed by the idea of a Japanese lover. An idea that dangerously pierces the fabric of her reality.

The world constructed—exists in the space where desire dangerously merges with memory, fantasy, dream and reality. The narrator is a participant and the architect. Sometimes she is immersed in the experience and other times she walks into the control room where all the realities are simply buttons to be pushed.

How do we narrate our lives? How can we dissect this narration? I start from the point of a married woman, an artist, a daughter, a mother, a lover. I want to think about how language reflects our culture and  our thinking. How our identity is wrapped inside language?











‘Projection’ says maybe ‘you’ are not ‘you’ but ‘me’ — it can really put a dent in reality—what is concrete and not concrete

I began to understand that I was female—that there were some restrictions.
What do I want—I want to be seen—which I usually mistake for falling in love.

A sentence should have no hesitation—each word is placed carefully next to each other and that proximity should ignite an action—a rhythm—it cannot be left to hang—if it is left to hang it returns to be defined years later when the increase of variables makes it more complex

Any small action must be observed

What we remember as real is based on how we last remembered it

The pamphlet reads—“this is a representation of perception—we can only see some parts of our reality not all”

I am practicing being human—and I wake often trying to understand what this practice looks like.

“Did you expect the paradigm to shift?”— the structure of marriage is being pulled apart—there is a directional verb—I will not return—not in the way I was before—I can’t be this anymore.

“Strange perhaps because so much of what we have done for the past many years is advocate for others—dangerous perhaps because once liberated from that mind set what happens to our world’s.” –Stephanie Sears

“Do you understand what is occurring?”

I pick up a thin sliver of salmon—put it in my mouth

I am changing.

The stories we tell become who we are




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