Natasha Berg - Tea on the Blue Sofa - Whispers of Love and Longing from Africa

And then tea on the blue sofa. You sitting back, me putting my feet up on the sofa. The preparation of it all. You told me later that you knew for sure, when you saw me undo my shoes, before I folded my legs that first time. I never quite understood that.

Now imagine an egg. Perfectly sealed and slightly pointed. A white egg balancing on a steel-clean surface. It is there simply because of the wonder of nature. So strong it is in its Tightness, so clearly outlined against the air around it. If I lay it in my hand, across my lifeline and close my first around it, I won’t be able to crush it. I simply can’t, it is the wonder of physics. But I don’t touch this egg, I leave it there and marvel.

Just slightly above this still life, a giant pendulum swings back and forth. Comparative to the egg, it is the size and material of a tank. THE INFINITE NO is the name of the pendulum, and it swings with such uncontrolled power, such limitlessness. There is the INFINITE NO travelling back and forth as if on patrol to crush, or cut time in bite-size pieces, just at fingernail-distance above the perfect egg on a spotless surface.

In that centimetre of air between the egg and the pendulum, is all hope, are endless possibilities–the reality of that hope, however, is a matter of millimetres, one way or the other.

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