|
Brownian Motion
Universal restlessness begins with Brownian motion.
The inanimate moves, he notices with a shiver of excitement. But his pollen and sphinx powder are forgotten for many years (as happens to the dead). The idea is suspended in a microscopic ocean until 1905. Einstein writes a beautiful paper about speed and distance, proving the existence of atoms.
I am shaky in my knowledge of atoms.
A good metaphor helps me see their motion (I remember protons and nuclei) it speeds my understanding as does an anecdotal shiver. I try to apply atoms to Barthes’ lexia until it became apparent that text is not a powder to be peered at through a lens. It isn’t dead
enough. Its movement is not dead
energy but the life of minds, many atoms making sense of complex signs. ‘Powder’ heats in relation to my emotion and experience — cocaine, baking, baby — until it expands with meaning. Speed is essential if I want that shiver
of context racing through me. The shiver
of a poked raindrop, men scared to death, earthquakes, horses at speed — I know none of these are identical to atomic jiggling. I was so ignorant until today, when all became powder. Room, table, window, chair —all in motion,
in unison, flinching like tickled skin. Motion
I imagined but didn’t see, under my feet, shivering, in my feet, of my feet, powder, sliding serendipitously. Even the dead — underground and remembered — moving until everything else stops, until every speed halts. I know little about atoms
but atoms,
I understand, are quite reliable. Motion, too, ubiquitous. The speed of sound and light, birds, shivering atoms, seem stable too until I consider history, men, baking powder — other probabilities that let me down. But, there are always consolations in death
to count on; our spirits down
until we notice the shivering atoms, the motion in dead powder.
|