Si può essere più soli
senza la solitudine —
Mi è così consueto il mio destino —
Forse l’altra — pace —

interromperebbe il buio —
e affollerebbe la piccola stanza —
troppo esigua — in metri — per contenere
il sacramento — di lui —

Non sono abituata alla speranza —
Potrebbe irrompere —
La sua dolce sfilata — profanerebbe il luogo —
consacrato al soffrire —

Potrebbe essere più facile
soccombere — con la riva più in vista —
che arrivare — alla mia azzurra penisola —
e morire — di gioia —

da: Emily Dickinson, Uno zero più ampio. Altre cento poesie, Torino, Einaudi, 2013, trad. it. di Silvia Bre

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Yesterday I briefly mentioned the theme of loneliness on an Instagram post. Some have expressed their opinion on the matter. Loneliness and isolation are related as silence and mutism. I choose whether to be silent, maybe sometimes it's imposed on me, but I can break it. If I am dumb, even if I want, I cannot speak. It is like being isolated from others. Even if I want I can't get close to them.

Today we are isolated, despite the means of communication. Perhaps solitude is sought to reflect, but this reflection often does not bring us out of isolation. It doesn't bring us to leave the ivory tower of meditation for its own sake and open up to others. I do not say this is the case for everyone, but it often is.

Talking about solitude and isolation with photography is not easy, because we often risk the cliché. I propose a poem by Emily Dickinson that deals with the theme. Maybe it could be a starting point for some thoughts on the subject.

It might be lonelier
Without the Loneliness —
I’m so accustomed to my Fate —
Perhaps the Other — Peace —

Would interrupt the Dark —
And crowd the little Room —
Too scant — by Cubits — to contain
The Sacrament — of Him —

I am not used to Hope —
It might intrude upon —
Its sweet parade — blaspheme the place —
Ordained to Suffering —

It might be easier
To fail — with Land in Sight —
Than gain — My Blue Peninsula —
To perish — of Delight —

Emily Dickinson
(F535 (1863) J405)