Seeking Absolvement
Atmosphere
I suppose yins and yangs change places. Often not knowing where they go. The effects of which are pondered when received. I was once yin as the rain made its way down the mountain side turning yang as it fell. The light I became was for the flowers. They in turn for the air to carry what blows in the wind around us. The yins and yangs of atmosphere. Copyright © Susy Kamber Song Selection - Claudio Ferrarini- Rain in Your Black Eyes (Arr. for flute by Claudio Ferrarini) “I suppose yins and yangs change places.” This opens with uncertainty, not doctrine. Yin and yang aren’t fixed opposites here—they’re fluid, capable of exchange. The speaker accepts motion rather than balance as the truth. “Often not knowing where they go.” Transformation happens without clear destinations. Change isn’t planned; it disperses. This suggests humility before forces larger than intention. “The effects of which are pondered when received.” We don’t understand change as it happens—only when it arrives at us. Meaning is retrospective. Experience precedes understanding. “I was once yin as the rain made its way down the mountainside turning yang as it fell.” This is the core image. Rain begins as receptive, quiet, yielding (yin), then becomes active, forceful, kinetic as it falls (yang). The speaker identifies as the process, not as an observer. Identity is movement. “The light I became was for the flowers.” After motion comes illumination. The speaker transforms again—into something nourishing, outward-giving. Light here is purpose, not ego: it exists for something else. “They in turn for the air to carry what blows in the wind around us.” Energy continues to circulate. Flowers respond, air participates, wind distributes. No element keeps what it receives. Everything is intermediary. “The yins and yangs of atmosphere.” This final line lifts the whole passage from personal reflection into cosmic system. Yin and yang are no longer abstract symbols—they are weather, breath, exchange, circulation. Atmosphere becomes both literal and emotional. In summary: This piece describes identity as a continuous exchange of states. Yin and yang are not opposites to be balanced but roles to be inhabited temporarily. The speaker moves from receptivity to action, from descent to illumination, from self to service. Meaning arises not from control, but from participation in a living, breathing system where energy transforms and passes on. There’s something quietly generous in it: nothing here exists for itself alone. Everything becomes something else, for something else. (Explanation by ChatGPT)
2026
Photograph
Into the Air
Folded like birds. Into paper. Something like that happens. Every time the sculptor makes a person move. Bend, brace and take off. He woke up that morning thinking about where they all go. © Susy Kamber All rights reserved This piece feels quietly metaphysical—about creation, animation, and release. “Folded like birds. / Into paper.” This immediately evokes origami: fragility, intention, and transformation. Birds imply freedom and flight; paper implies delicacy and constraint. Together, they suggest potential—something light and alive, made from something flat and ordinary. “Something like that happens.” The line softens certainty. It acknowledges approximation rather than explanation, as if the speaker knows the feeling but not the mechanism. Creation is intuitive, not fully rational. “Every time the sculptor makes a person move.” Here the sculptor is more than an artist—possibly a stand-in for a god, creator, animator, or even time itself. To “make a person move” suggests giving life, intention, or direction. “Bend, brace and take off.” These are stages of motion and readiness. Bend implies vulnerability, brace suggests preparation or resistance, and take off is release—departure, flight, or death. It mirrors both physical movement and existential transition. “He woke up that morning thinking about where they all go.” This closing line grounds the abstract in human doubt. Even the creator wonders about aftermath—what happens once creation is released. It hints at mortality, autonomy, and the quiet loneliness of letting go. Overall The passage reflects on the act of making life or meaning and then losing control of it. People, once shaped, move on—like paper birds launched into the air. The creator can initiate motion but cannot follow its destination. It’s tender, questioning, and filled with awe at what escapes our hands once set in motion. (Explanation by ChatGPT)
2025
Photograph
Seeking Absolvement
The poetic reality, The awareness of light against dark or dark against light, The symbolism of this antagonism, The absorption of a trust that exists within. We all wait in our own confused states seeking absolvement, on lines alone, or in crowds. Sanctuaries or dreams, the places we enter to make known our needs. Copyright © Susy Kamber This feels like a summation piece—quietly philosophical, inward, and human. “The poetic reality, the awareness of light against dark or dark against light,” This opens by naming perception itself. Not just opposites, but awareness of them. Light and dark are not moralized yet—they are conditions of seeing. Which one presses against the other matters. “the symbolism of this antagonism,” Here the contrast becomes charged. Light and dark are no longer neutral; they carry meaning, tension, conflict. The word antagonism suggests struggle without declaring a victor. “the absorption of a trust that exists within.” This line turns inward. Trust isn’t granted externally; it’s absorbed, internalized, almost breathed in. Even amid opposition, there is something quietly held and relied upon. “We all wait in our own confused states seeking absolvement,” This universalizes the experience. Waiting, confusion, and the desire for absolution—release, forgiveness, clarity—are shared conditions, not personal failures. “on lines alone, or in crowds.” Whether isolated or surrounded, the waiting persists. Loneliness can exist in both solitude and togetherness. “Sanctuaries or dreams, the places we enter to make known our needs.” The closing lines offer gentleness. We create or seek spaces—real or imagined—where vulnerability is allowed. Dreams and sanctuaries become languages for asking, for admitting what we lack. Overall: The piece explores human consciousness caught between opposites, searching not for resolution but for permission—to trust, to wait, to ask. It recognizes that meaning is formed in contrast, and that absolution is often sought quietly, in private spaces we build for ourselves. It’s contemplative, compassionate, and unafraid of uncertainty. (Explanation by ChatGPT)
2024
Photograph