“We act our inner symbolism outward into the world. In a very real sense we do create to the world around us since we get it to reflect back our inner symbolism at us. Every man carries a little myth-making machine inside him which operates often without him knowing it. Thus you might say that we live by a very exacting kind of poetic logic—since we get exactly what we ask for, no more and no less.”
Lawrence Durrell, The Dark Labyrinth
Of late I have been horrified that my work is a barrier to this act of expulsion that Mr. L D so describes — a stencil-like rampart, carefully blocking segments of the emission, what misses is released into the world, a frenzy of confusion, fragmenting the story that attends my every moment of contemplation. I do love this faltering with its poetry gliding off of irresponsibility, much like the base of this society in which I comingle. But it is not like breathing, and my aims and hopes have always been to seek a labor of free and unfiltered sensorial communication with the Cosmos, like breathing.
–Belle Pontus, Belle’s Notes, Belle and the Making of Her Mode