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brian rice

Breaching the body skin

The skin, one complete organism of envelopment. Containing, retaining.The barrier that holds it all in, an also holds it all back. The normal stopvalve of vents and orifices in the body that help release the emotions, arent always used. Or, at least, not properly. Sometimes they're not enough, it would seem. So splitting the skin becomes the opening. The dividing line that says, this is me and not me. The decision that puts sovereignty back on the lost soul's map. Breaking the back of the trapeez emotions, on known ground. Reclaiming the self by abusing it. Shadow boxing is all well and good when a little air is needing released. But the deep wounds of civil life need the lubrication of blood. Air is too insubstantial, effemiral. If the will were an eagle it might escape the punishing earth and the crumbling surroundings. But the will is a snake, trapped in a thicket. There is some stretch of contingency.
The least freedom is in living the absolute stricture of human law. This law, a paradox of inflated grandeur and a pauper's reduction of what's even minimally human. We're all trying to find the sweet spot between the two, and often the body becomes the target of the conflict and vice created. The body wants to sing and be fluid. Law reduces fluidity to stricter measures of movement and action, as we try to compose a matrix of signs, denoting human drive, release and creativity as measured by pain, bravery and courage. The quiet courage of our daily lives. The search for meaning is pulsing through our bodies. The skin becomes the spearhead prow, pushing bondaries whilst retaining them. The cut becomes a body transcendence.