Michael Marnin Jacobs
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A short history of light

A short history of light

Just to this side of paradise. 2017

Just to this side of paradise. 2017

 

 

This side of paradise

 

From the age of eleven I grew up to be an adult…

in this room with that window facing West,

just this side of paradise.

 

After 2am I often could hear the sea calling me…

and telling me “farther than this you cannot go.”

It’s been thirty-seven years since I stepped out into the world

and thirty-two of them taking place in the East.

 

Returning this past fall to face a family tragedy

I lay in my childhood bed facing West

and there it was like an apparition.

 

That glorious light,

undefined by location but by instinct.

 

It is still my light but the West is not my place,

anymore.

 

Michael Marnin Jacobs. 2017

The other side of paradise 1 & 2

Silver gelatin negative/Pigment print

 

Just to this side of paradise #2. 2017

Just to this side of paradise #2. 2017

A midnight debate amongst the stoic (2014)

A midnight debate amongst the stoic (2014)

A vision in Berlin

A vision in Berlin

In a polluted city

In a polluted city

A vigil strange and wondrous she kept for that one long thirteen day night.

A vigil strange and wondrous she kept for that one long thirteen day night.

A meditation on terminal illness, loving presence and the return passage to the cosmos.

 

Two people side by side, one soon on the return path to the cosmos, the other keeping a vigil through days and nights, both on a journey, both doing struggle with and within themselves.

One in need of help and comfort and the other offering the help of comfort without any expectation or demand for miracles. 

Two humans side by side, one whose body is losing the struggle and who’s mind is slowly turning inward and another whose body is sound and is in the present and of sound mind.

Both together for each other and for themselves. 

In the beginning the days were days and nights nights. Slowly the days became nights and nights became as one. On the streets all could be measured by AM and PM.

On the inside each moment could be measured by the length of a song or a prayer, or of a question and an answer or by the silence.

One spoke no more of the cancer. The other did not even consider it anymore. 

Their breaths no longer rolled like two seas in unison. As one grew shallow the other grew heavy until there was only one remaining.

 

Michael Marnin Jacobs

Cosmic1.jpg

A short history of light

Just to this side of paradise. 2017

 

 

This side of paradise

 

From the age of eleven I grew up to be an adult…

in this room with that window facing West,

just this side of paradise.

 

After 2am I often could hear the sea calling me…

and telling me “farther than this you cannot go.”

It’s been thirty-seven years since I stepped out into the world

and thirty-two of them taking place in the East.

 

Returning this past fall to face a family tragedy

I lay in my childhood bed facing West

and there it was like an apparition.

 

That glorious light,

undefined by location but by instinct.

 

It is still my light but the West is not my place,

anymore.

 

Michael Marnin Jacobs. 2017

The other side of paradise 1 & 2

Silver gelatin negative/Pigment print

 

Just to this side of paradise #2. 2017

A midnight debate amongst the stoic (2014)

A vision in Berlin

In a polluted city

A vigil strange and wondrous she kept for that one long thirteen day night.

A meditation on terminal illness, loving presence and the return passage to the cosmos.

 

Two people side by side, one soon on the return path to the cosmos, the other keeping a vigil through days and nights, both on a journey, both doing struggle with and within themselves.

One in need of help and comfort and the other offering the help of comfort without any expectation or demand for miracles. 

Two humans side by side, one whose body is losing the struggle and who’s mind is slowly turning inward and another whose body is sound and is in the present and of sound mind.

Both together for each other and for themselves. 

In the beginning the days were days and nights nights. Slowly the days became nights and nights became as one. On the streets all could be measured by AM and PM.

On the inside each moment could be measured by the length of a song or a prayer, or of a question and an answer or by the silence.

One spoke no more of the cancer. The other did not even consider it anymore. 

Their breaths no longer rolled like two seas in unison. As one grew shallow the other grew heavy until there was only one remaining.

 

Michael Marnin Jacobs

A short history of light
Just to this side of paradise. 2017
Just to this side of paradise #2. 2017
A midnight debate amongst the stoic (2014)
A vision in Berlin
In a polluted city
A vigil strange and wondrous she kept for that one long thirteen day night.
Cosmic1.jpg