For some reason I was browsing through my third book, Nocturnal Rhythms and came across this introduction to the section entitled “Remnants”. It was yet another reminder of how our obsessions stay with us over the years, for it was more than three decades later that I did my digital art triptych, “Coming Apart”.
“Remnants, what is left from the daylight world. The vestiges of sanity. The shards from a shattered mirror still reflecting a wee bit of distorted light. The scraps of day montaged by night. I am an insomniac, and hence I am an expert on transitions. Each night I battle with wakeful reason, only to win a wakeful sleep. Unlike the natural sleeper, my nights are not blank sheets, for I dream with an intensity often greater than reality. At night, many hide in a dreamless sleep. I can't, so I don't. My lover can, and she does. For this I hate her. For this I could kill her. Meanwhile I suffer my own series of little deaths. Fragments of nocturnal life. Shards, splinters, memories distorted into immediate experiences.”
