The Absence of Shadow

There is no such thing as light, only the absence of shadow. 

Last year in my dorm room, I had an illegal candle (as in, housing regulations prohibited me from having something with a burnt wick in my room).  I would light it when I wanted to feel warm or when I wanted to feel more in-touch with myself.  It was extremely comforting to watch the flame light up a small spherical area on my windowsill.  I would often light it when I wanted to take a nap, as a silly comfort to myself that no monsters would get me while I slept.  I also hung a small strand of Christmas lights in my room, which, combined with the candle, gave great ambient lighting.  I hated the fluorescent light that resided in my ceiling.  It was large, rectangular, and though it was the brightest thing in the room, when I needed to see I still preferred to use my desk lamp, which gives off a lovely warm-yellow glow.  Unfortunately, when I started this year, I did not have a candle.  I got one recently, and I noticed that my productivity and confidence have gone way up.  Lighting it just makes me feel powerful and strong, and for as long as it’s lit, it’s easier for me to do my homework.  Not having it for so long made me realize how much I missed having fire as a constant part of my life.  How I feel about lighting elsewhere is just an extension of how I feel about my candle.  I thrive in spaces that are pleasantly lit, and feel scared in places that are lit harshly or in an unfriendly way.  Firelight gives me something to walk toward, and fluorescent light gives me something to walk away from—quickly.

                Moonlight is also sacred to me, in a different way than firelight is.  Moonlight is blue light, which is not usually considered ambient.  Most of the light I prefer to be in is yellow, but I also love the color of moonlight.  I have never had the chance to walk in only moonlight without other man-made lighting around, so I’m not sure whether it would make me comfortable or not.  However, I have sometimes gone up onto the mountains and looked out at the city at night, and seeing the city from far away while I am in the dark makes me feel safe.  I enjoy the beauty of the city because I am not surrounded by light. 

                Sometimes though, I like to be in spaces that aren't lit at all.  I would prefer it to be completely dark everywhere outside rather than have it poorly lit.  That way it is easier for me to quietly and efficiently keep to the shadows and avoid being seen.  If it is poorly lit I have no choice but to occasionally reveal myself to whomever may be interested in me.  The poor lighting also makes me feel jittery and hunted.  So, yes, I suppose there is something to be said for opting for no lighting at all.

                Shadows are another form of darkness that I find is undervalued.  So many of the shadows in the world today are binary.  What I mean by that is, the shadows are either there, or they are not there.  The shadows created by trees are analog; you can be in sun and shadow at the same time.  I like analog shadows because of the temperature change from sunlight to shadow.  If you’re not dressed exactly right for the weather, a shadow can make or break your comfort level.  In concrete jungles, analog shadows are practically nonexistent.  We are increasingly living in a binary universe, where you can have all or none, good or evil, and present or gone.  We are little encouraged to access the empathy that would let us have some, be both good and evil, and be there sometimes.  A little shadow appreciation here or there would go a long way...