Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Just a Shadow of Oneself

Dear George,

Freud described regression as a neurotic mechanism through which one psychologically reverts to infantile stages and uses primitive responses to satisfy one’s needs. Psychoanalysts nowadays have incorporated Ernst Kris’ concept of “regression in the service of the ego,” which posits that regressive mental states can also foster creativity and self insight. I’m not sure if it’s neurotic or healthy, but I do seem to be engaging in more regressive activity these days. It’s partly because childhood was filled with such wonderment. Snowflakes, raindrops, stars, fireflies, etc. Shadows are just about the best example. Though they hibernated on cloudy days, they’d pop up everywhere as soon as the sun came out. They would change shapes -- sometimes tall and long; other times, short and squat. They could walk ahead of you, follow behind, or be at your side. But, even when out of sight, every time you looked around, your shadow would be right there. And if you did they hokey-pokey, they’d duplicate your every move. Years later, when you found a girlfriend, the combined shadow of the two of you, holding hands and walking together, was pure romance. So, in the interest of regression, I thought I should check out my shadow. Here’s are some images of that crafty fellow.



G-Mail Comments

-Phyllis S-S (3-23): Dave, I prefer to think of what you describe as creativity and NOT regression. Phyllis

-Vicki L (3-22): Hi D, Wow you are one awesome and somewhat scary dude. Love, Sis

-Jennifer M (3-22): "like" :-)

-Donna D (3-22): david, this is the BEST yet! i just love this… where's katja? maybe you should think about making more shadow pics with the two of you. then, maybe you could add the dogs, thus the four of you. then, maybe you could add justin, kiersta and the babies,even the dog! many shadows from the one shadow. i just loved this!!!

1 comment:

  1. My Shadow

    I have a little shadow,
    That goes in and out with me,
    And what can be the use of him,
    Is more than I can see.
    He is very, very like me,
    From the heels up to the head;
    And I see him jump before me,
    When I jump into my bed.

    The funniest thing about him,
    Is the way he likes to grow –
    Not at all like proper children,
    Which is always very slow;
    For he sometimes shoots up taller,
    Like an Indian – rubber ball,
    And he sometimes gets so little,
    That there’s nothing of him at all.

    He hasn’t got a notion of,
    How children ought to play,
    And can only make a fool of me,
    In every sort of way.
    He stands so close beside me,
    He’s a coward you can see;
    I’d think shame to stick to nursie,
    As that shadow sticks to me!

    One morning, very early,
    Before the sun was up,
    I rose and found the shining dew,
    On every buttercup;
    But my lazy little shadow,
    Like an arrant sleepy – head,
    Had stayed at home behind me,
    And was fast asleep in bed.