Date of publication : 27.10.20
Immersive kissing? What the hell is this? I thought this was a proper university even though it was online and that we would be studying kissing with someone who really knew what they were talking about and books!
I imagine that this is what you are thinking right now.
But I am going to ask you to trust me. To trust that I really do know what I’m talking about even if I’m not approaching teaching in a boring way. Do not worry - later this term, we will apply ourselves to a curriculum on the ancient kiss: India, Greece, Egypt. But right now I want to take a different approach.
Please don’t resist.
I take you by the hand (a little forcefully, you might think - after all this is an institute of education!) and I lead you away from the familiar world, down the corridor of your doubt, and into the secret room of my expertise.
It’s very dark in here.
Yes.
It’s very dark and a bit cold and possibly damp.
And it occurs to you that there is absolutely no way you are going to be able to take notes in this darkness, so there was no point bringing a pencil. Why did the university ask you to bring a pencil.
Never mind.
You put it out of your thoughts and give yourself over to this new experience.
And anyway - you think - what is there to write notes about?
For nothing has happened yet.
It is just complete and utter darkness.
And yet you can feel it….
Something…
In this darkness, you are beginning to have the hint of a sensation which is unsettling you. Yes, you have an unsettling feeling which now transforms into a suspicion. And as the seconds tick by, suspicion becomes conviction - a now inescapable conviction that brings with it the scent of terror.
For whilst you have been standing here alone, imagining what this darkness might conceal, you come to believe that it conceals - nothing.
That, were the light to snap on, nothing would be revealed.
Nothing at all.
The room would be empty.
Utterly empty.
A vacuum.
The thought sends shivers down your spine.
You try to stay very still.
Try to stay.
Very.
Still.
Now you feel something.
You feel warm breath disturb the cold air very close to your face.
It is thrilling.
Your heart beats.
It must be me!
So close.
What will happen?
And then you hear a sort of bonk followed by a muffled cry of pain. It sounds like I stubbed my toe which jangles your already rather fraught nerves, but in a new way, for it suggests that I don’t know what I’m doing. In this darkness, you have - perhaps - put yourself in the hands of a person who has absolutely no idea what they are doing. O no. You think. That would be bad. On top of which you won’t learn a thing about kissing. But what can you do? You want to be helpful of course because you are a kind person and I seem a bit lost but you are not sure how you can help. You don’t know where the light switch is. How could you? Why would you?
And then I speak. I say -
‘This is my body’
Silence.
Then a moment later, you feel a tap on your shoulder.
‘This is your body’
Stillness.
‘Two bodies’
And then I start to sing softly…
‘Dreamy the music is playing. You're here and I'm here, my dear…’
And now it is your turn to surprise me. You cut me off with -
‘How much longer is this going on for please?’
I withdraw my hand from your shoulder and -
‘Not much longer… um… I have led you here by my art but we have reached the point beyond which my powers cannot determine the way… you must be guided by your own sense of delight… and I know of the sweet fruit that awaits you… the fruit that will quench your hunger…’
Then you hear me softly weeping and you are not sure if this is all part of it or not. Whatever it is. You put your pencil behind your ear and, fumbling around for a way out, you discover what feels like a plastic door knob. You twist it and, sure enough, a crack of light appears.
‘Your will is free and whole…’
But you are no longer listening to me. You are opening the door wide and, as your pupils shrink against the light, you find that you too are weeping. For you understand that I am forever trapped inside an inescapable darkness which are the limits of my teaching and I cannot take you further.
And you didn’t even learn anything about the origins of kissing. It’s actually a bit annoying.
‘Behold the sun……..’
And off you go.
O
It is very bright.
The light is blinding.
What on earth are you supposed to do now?
Without me to show you the way?
You stand for what feels like a long time looking into the blankness ahead of you.
And then.
You have an idea.
You reach for your pencil -
This is something.
You aren’t quite sure what but that’s OK.
You follow your delight -
The finishing touch -
Yes.
That is enough.
You look again.
It is perfect.
You have created a perfect kiss.
And now, you see, the possibilities are endless…
THE END
.
.
.
or perhaps
THE BEGINNING
Thank you for visiting my mysterious room of experiential study!
I know it’s a little different from the very much more traditional approach to education that we were taking last term with Early Modern Kissing and so I want to thank you for throwing yourself into it so wholeheartedly. If some of you found it a bit too much and/or confusing and/or sensational then please do feel free to complain about it in the feedback form below which has been specially designed to evaporate into the cloud and never be seen again.
EXERCISE LESSON ONE
No homework! Just a song…
IMAGES
Antonio Corradini - Veiled Truth (1750)
Sarah Winchester - The Winchester Mystery House (1886-1922)
Bridge Riley - The Kiss (1961) - turned on its side and squashed by Me (2020)
Egon Schiele - The Kiss (1911)
Study by Egon Schiele - Act of love (1915)
REF
Purgatorio 27 - Virgil’s last words
Date of publication : 27.10.20