When one looks at the mountain, one sees several different things. Firstly, one sees a vertical dimension in a very concrete form – one that can be located in space, far beyond (above) the tangible context of the distance between one’s eye and the ground, the point in space above, and the lines leading to that point from the plane on which one is. Secondly, one sees the result – and thus the evidence of the forces forming the environment – magma, lava, rock mass, and so on. Thirdly, one also sees the mountain in relation to oneself, or vice versa. In any case, through one’s ability to take the various possible routes to the mountain top, despite all the limitations – gravity, degree of slope, type of matter, one’s own strength, endurance, and so on. One can also see in the mountain an entire mass of metaphors referring to practically any sphere of experience; ones that neatly consolidate various perspectives focused on a certain point. Mountain – challenge. Mountain – call. Mountain – work. Mountain – life. Mountain – world. But, if I may say so, it’s all worth shit if you don’t get moving. Even roughly, generally, more or less, upwards
Different tunes in my head.
(transl. Magdalena Małek-Andrzejowska)