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I was reading an article by Joseph Kosuth |
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| experiencing it, as usual, as both theory and art |
| and suddenly I realised that other people |
| often read words as if they had meaning |
behind them |
| as if words were a veil not material. |
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| The clay is the pot. |
| Its language, its style |
| are not seen as separate |
| from its corporeality; |
| are not seen as a veil |
| behind which could be revealed |
| its purpose, its meaning. |
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| The people who live in a world |
| where text is not a substance - |
| they must experience the words |
of a poem |
| as if in a manual or timetable |
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| behind which to search for information. |
| But you and I read timetables |
| searching for poetic form. |
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| How differently they must view the idea |
| that consciousness is a textual construct. |
| They must think it means there's a veil |
| concealing an essential meaning |
| They must imagine an essence, a truth, |
| behind textual appearance. |
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| But for us the concept |
| writes consciousness |
| back into experience |
| making language |
signal |
| with textual solidity |
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| the world's substance. |
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