Anything could act as a catalyst and mediator between consciousness and repressed material one knows is there but tries to deny, ignore, rationalize, minimize, distract or avoid. Over ripe bananas did it for me, plus reading Sartre over coffee. Anxiety increases as the lies wear thin and one becomes increasingly conscious of that which one wishes would stay unconscious.
What exactly is it that one wishes to avoid? Maybe it’s the fear of peeling blackened peel to find rotten banana underneath. However, the bananas in the picture were fine. Another day and they would have been mushy. The white fruit was easy to swallow.
A case study: Abel Crane, twenty-five years old, perpetual student in a doctoral program of religious studies at Lumpkins University, rented the basement of a large, old brick house owned by Dr. Sylph Gondora, philosophy professor and Dr. Ann Shackleton, professor of psychology.
In the buried world of the basement, Able Crane projected meaning on to objects, such as empty bottles, candles, little boxes that once contained sardine cans, some shot glasses he found in a recyclables bucket and so on. He cut up, sanded and painted little pieces of wood, muttered prayers and then placed them in significant locations throughout the kitchen, to mark dimensions, or to create diagrams of an expanding psychic cosmos.
Setting up a kind of temple was his way of peeling away the tissue of lies that separated, or disguised himself from himself. What does “himself” mean? He means a multi-directional, infinite investigation. One never arrives at locating a single, fixed entity that could be pin pointed as being the self. Of course, there’s much disagreement on this subject. These are merely a few oversimplified suggestions as to what was going on when Able Crane placed three over ripe bananas on the shrine in his kitchen.