Skajlab takes a view of writing and speech that only a “good postmodern” could espouse. Writing is betrayal. It contains its own suicidal death within its own birth. Once written, or spoken, that which is written or spoken is no more, eternally deferred a la Derrida. We can only approximate the reality we try to convey in our writing and speech, in our own articulation of ourselves. We can never really get there though. For once that utterance is made, once that word is written, the I doing the writing has escaped to places unknown. The beingness of ourselves, then, is in fact not being, but becoming—a process, a perpetual movement forward, a perpetual cycle of birthing, dying and being reborn.
The solace to be found then in being betrayed by one’s own words, one’s own image, one’s own mother, is the regenerative and reincarnative possibilities of language itself.
