To the mass aspect of emptiness

Only emptiness can be held onto.
The shattered center is displaced from balance,
tunnels of eyes full of rushing darkness,
feet spin upon impact
in the mud of memories.

Shifting IV

The poetic composition Glass Mist by Frede Calo explores the process of coming to terms with (intergenerational) trauma. The protagonist of the text, Full Rain, embarks on his journey to a place called Glass Mist, which evokes a certain ambiguity, a kind of fog. This "grasping" is therefore a challenging task, part of which is also the willingness to reflect "to the core." The title of the section Stitches are visible from the inside also alludes to this – it contains a series of texts Shifting.

The generational aspect lies in the perspective on the father, who is a "blind spot" for Full Rain. The idea of a blind spot evokes the image of a non-reflective space. The insolubility of the situation is further intensified by verses powerfully embodying the stuckness in the past: the image of the "tilted center," the oxymoronic combination of the organ of sight ("tunnels of eyes") with its blindness ("full rushing darkness"), and finally the metaphor of "feet in the mud of memories."

The mental stagnation of the protagonist thus manifests physically: it materializes. Considering the last two lines of the quoted poem, everything perhaps seems lost. But let us look more closely at this "play with matter." When searching for a semantic counterpoint to the "mud of memories," we encounter the "emptiness" from the first line. Here, a kind of chiasmus (crossing) occurs: the matter of the mud forms an obstacle that can be overcome by bouncing off the intangible emptiness.

The turning point thus occurs with a change in perspective, if we perceive that "emptiness" positively, as a point from which a new personal history can begin. Zen's paradoxical "clinging to emptiness" ultimately leads to an effort to glimpse the white space and fill it with content and meaning. This later allows Full Rain to move from his place/space, to marvel and say: "Life surprised me."

And so, in the final section of the collection, when the Glass Mist dissolves (it is a reversal of the process resonating in the last two quoted lines), the protagonist utters a gnosis: "‘Until the pain is great enough, / you can't look at what hurts.’" This signals that the prerequisite for coming to terms with the blind spot (intergenerational) trauma is to realize its existence. Only then can we stabilize the angle of view and truly step into the world, perceiving it not only with sight but with all senses.

Frede Calo: Glass Mist. Brno, Větrné mlýny, 2025.

The authorship is part of the Instagram project @instapretacia

Selected Poems

Fragments of the kaleidoscope trembled

and awakened neural connections,
like a sudden fall from a high wall
just before falling asleep.

"My father is a blind spot
in my life," whispered Full Rain
and his first words
set the direction.

The circular arrangement rearranged:

xxxx

His persistent silence

carved into the surrounding air
tangled loops.

Occasionally, they revealed
changing constellations,
colonies of corpses,
white walls.

xxxx

Shifting IV

Only emptiness can be held onto.
The shattered center is displaced from balance,
tunnels of eyes full of rushing darkness,
feet spin upon impact
in the mud of memories.

The body of a long defeated victim
grows into the flickering fog.

xxxx

I didn't think any of that, and life surprised me.

I didn't think, love, that I would be gay.
I didn't think I would hold you in an embrace.
I didn't think that just I —
I have something to tell you.
I didn't think I would cry like a child.
I didn't think blood would seep from behind the mirrors.
I didn't think cold metal would tear me from the inside.
I didn't think my body would catch up with me.
I didn't think I would rise from the tiles in the shower.
I didn't think I would be alone.
I didn't think the darkness would end.
I didn't think there was life in me.

xxxx