Michael Ondaatje Handwriting “Death at Kataragama” evokes for me the sculptural qualities of rice paddies:
The way someone’s name holds terraces of character […]
The containment of name is here poised on the verge of overflowing into the adventures of the body.
The place bodies meet is the place of escape.
The cascading invites the reader to contemplate with the poetic voice the chance to be transmogrified. “I would give everything away for this sound of mud and water, hooves, great wings”. To dwell upon this further is to come to the realization that the sound becomes inscribed in a name, the signature, sign of character, being in a body at a particular set of moments.
And so for day 180