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The Ausencia Experiment
Saturday, March 8, 2008 at 11:22AM 
Transferring spirit into matter is an alchemy of which the history of man has perpetually caught itself in the grasp of. When it came my turn to face the question, I was no different. The loss of her was so great, so incomprehensible, that it ripped at me internally like a rat gnawing its way out from the inside. All I could do was use every capacity I had to try to capture the bits, pieces and stains of all that she was. I tethered photos of her, chotchkes, charms and prayer cards to my clothing so as never to loose sight of her, lest I forget. I walked around with a dress made of memories, clicking and clacking like a wind chime whenever I walked.
Removing her number from my cellphone was an act of great resistance. A war that I waged with that of the spirit world, refusing to give all of her up. I locked myself in the studio for days, forgetting every corporeal need and painted a large canvas of her face with my hands. I used no brush, only my my fingers so that I could run my tears, flesh, breath and sobs through every line, every wrinkle. I did this so I could impregnate my flesh with the map of her form.
I belabored over an altar (the laboratory) trying to resurrect the feeling of her voice. I desperately sought out evidence of her spirit. I funneled the tears. Scraped up all the blue of our tears and encapsulated them in a jar.
I strained and drained the sheets of her 'ausencia'- such an ethereal and unmanageable compound. What is 'ausencia'? Its the Spanish word that I find uneasily translatable into English - meaning the lingering presence left behind absence; such as a foot print, an imprint on a bed or a pillow. Essentially, it is the feeling or mark that implies someone was once there and this aura was left behind in their place. When the essential oil of that ausencia was fully captured it had stars of Anise in it, concentrated brown, representative of her caramel skin.
Perhaps some found this practice Frankenstonian in nature. After all, none of us can play GOD and resurrect the dead. Still I persisted. I'd like to say that with enough meditative practice, she would return whole, vibrant, round, rosy and smiling by my side, laughing the way we used to do at random silliness, so carefree together. Yet, I'm not sure I can say so. I have lost the battle with the spirit world. She is there now and there is not here. Only now after acceptance, after burying my dress under soil and calling for nature to biodegrade and transfer that matter into the air that I breathe, only now can I feel her in my consciousness.
http://sundayscribblings.blogspot.com/
Reader Comments (11)
I liked the eteral feeling of this piece. How we try any and everything we can think of to make it unhappen. Your soul was evident here.
rel
This was very ethereal and I like how you tied it in with the prompt and with Frankenstein -- oh if we could but re-create those we have loved!!!
Recreating the ones we love and de-creating those we don't. I am on board with that.
Thank You for taking me there, with you, searching, yearning, so beautifully written.
I like such pieces. They way it plays on the mind.
Refluxing Life
That's a beautiful post! and photo.
Very nice to meet you! I found this post an amazing portrait of grief and love. Beautiful writing!
amazing and touching my favorite yet.
Thank you for reminding me that your SS posts are in this section and not in your blog! I really enjoyed reading this piece, it is beautiful. Is writing part of the experiment, will the words bring back her ausencia? is writing like burying the dress? Have your read Santitos? I think you will like it. BTW I answered your questions at my blog. B
This is such beautiful prose. You are such a gifted writer. You may not have been able to bring her back from the spirit world, yet your spirit is very much there with hers. Simply beautiful....
I’ve seen your name in the Sunday Scribblings line-up. Seen it on Devil Mood’s site. So many SS participants! I’m looking for the thing that grabs the scruff of my neck and makes me look...writing that has come from the raw and stays mostly raw with refinement enough to taunt mainstream but not join it... I started with The Ausencia Experiment and kept going to Tiramisu to Biography to My BLOG, What’s in Your Bag?, stayed on Stained Bedroom Sheets a long time (it was the art, it was Texas where I used to live that got me), Candy Jernigan, 10 Things... OK enough. I got the scruff of the neck treatment here. Thank you!