Invisbility In Vocation (Being Invisible, Part Three)

I am doing a series of themed posts in trilogies: this is part three of the invisibilty sequence (see earlier posts for the other two.)
SO: another take on invisibility. Choice makes such a difference..


in praise of invisibility


i have cultivated the art of invisibility and studied the great mystics
the technicalities involved are tricky, lots of planning and logistics
certainly I would resent it greatly if the state of not being recognised
were imposed through social limitations but I like being so disguised
emily, I remember, wrote "I am nobody, who are you?" and I relate
to that sense of nebulous mystery: too much public notice I would hate
but most especially, and delightful, when I can't see myself I am more able
to slip and float more fluidly through worlds of legend, myth and fable
I don't want to look or seem the sort of person who can easily be bagged
for those who want me gift wrapped, conveniently tied up and neatly tagged
How much easier, and more fun it is, to be me by just not being me, disappear
this is my invisibility invocation, I have made it my dedication and career
of course this is perhaps escapism in the world of every day: a paradox
but I won't display identifiable features, they might put me in a box
a psychiatrist once said to me: "such unhealthy avoidance of being seen!"
but I asked him "don't you ever shrink yourself, visit places in between
what we think is normal reality, and the magical other world of parallel?
I spend a lot of time exploring shadowy lands, and am adjusting very well"

(eva day)





(NOTE: reference to emily is re Emily Dickinson poem "I'm Nobody")

KATE BUSH. LYRICS: HOW TO BE INVISIBLE

I found a book on how to be invisible
Take a pinch of keyhole
And fold yourself up
You cut along a dotted line
You think inside out
And you're invisible

Eye of Braille
Hem of anorak
Stem of wallflower
Hair of doormat

I found a book on how to be invisible
On the edge of the labyrinth
Under a veil you must never lift
Pages that you must never turn
In the labyrinth
You stand in front of a million doors
And each one holds a million more
Corridors that lead to the world
Of the invisible
Corridors that twist and turn
Corridors that blister and burn

Eye of Braille
Hem of anorak
Stem of wallflower
Hair of doormat
Is that the wind from the desert song?
Is that the autumn leaf falling?
Or is that you walking home?

Is that the wind from the desert song?
Is that the autumn leaf falling?
Or is that you walking home?
Is that a storm in the swimming pool?

You take a pinch of keyhole
And fold yourself up
You cut along a dotted line
You think inside out
You jump 'round three times
You jump into the mirror
And you're invisible