Stories you can wear
Kimono 99
The Void
The theme of the void seemed to be in the air then, and at the same time, I was in love.
A paradox, right?
How can the void exist where a relationship is just beginning?
But the void can arise there, too.
I asked you about it in my Stories: how you experience it. There were many responses, and in almost all of them, the void came across not as an absolute “nothing,” but as a space full of potential.
Within my own experience of the void, I suddenly caught its opposite: the fullness and intensity of interest. The richness of other feelings I experienced around this person.
Would the void feel so empty without that fullness? I doubt it.
Gradually, the void began to change shape. It became like a translucent haze between two poles:
the urge to come closer
and the desire to pull away.
I realized that the void I felt lay between two possibilities, diametrically opposed. The void as a buffer zone.
Unclear, hazy, frustrating, yet surprisingly fertile.
The void began to die as it took shape, and that form was only temporary.
That was how I gradually came to understand what this kimono should be.
And that is what it became: a guide through a transitional state.
Any identity I take on,
“psychologist,”
“kimono maker,”
“a woman in love,”
is only a state.
In the moment when I am fully immersed in it,
it is absolutely real, but it is not final.
The form of the process changes, but the process itself continues.
And perhaps that is why
the void is never
truly empty, and meaning is never fully understood.