The mirror is both a tangible illusion and an impalpable reality. Of itself, it is impassive. Its rims are encrusted with kaleidoscopic whorls. The mirror is man made yet it is also a component of consciousness. The glass is an actualization, a corporeal embodiment of what, in the human psyche, constitute amorphous realms of unknowingness. The mirror is both there and not there. It is both self and other. The finality of the mirror is its fluidity. It ripples both consciousness and physiognomies with a constellation of coruscating configurations, alternately luminous and crepuscular. The mirror is both light and darkness. It is both revelatory and dissimulative. But all these cornucopic contradiction it embodies are mediated by the lens of those who gaze at it. The mirror thus is a compendium of human density and destiny.
Sunlight dazzles the mirror. It's rims glow incandescently. In absorbing light the mirror expels light in a daze of blinding intensity. The sight is seared, consciousness inflamed. Dust motes float disembodied, illuminated with limpid clarity, caught, in their zigzagging movements, as impersonal forces,gradually but imperceptibly accreting in a protean and wispy mass, infinitesimally agglomerated.
Gradually as the day advances the blinding luminosity recedes. It isn't rendered indistinct as much as unpeeled as though the mass of light, so blinding to the corona, gradually divests itself of ray after ray until a few visible rays repose, reflected , not in the mirror but on the mosaical floor where they lie aslant, bent, shadowed. The reflection reflected in the floor is the point where light and mirror converge, assuming a form that is visible but evanescent, part of the ephemeral paraphernalia of the caprices of things man made intersecting with force of nature.
The moon comes out. The mirror is now opalescent.