Creative writing and artful observations

[Magical Realist]

I could not live in a world where there was only day and night. I am a homesick dweller of thresholds. A recalcitrant skirter of the peripheries. I thrive most vibrantly in the dawn and twilight hours. When I'm not sleeping in that is.

[Image: CaKYydv.jpg]

[Magical Realist]

For all I know this may be AI generated. But it seems to nail what it's all about pretty accurately. Maybe AI, by standing outside of us, can more precisely diagnose the problem of the human condition. Tks to my high school friend Geni Monceaux Sisk.

https://www.facebook.com/reel/1466960908446047

[Magical Realist]

Driving across the country recently, I was reminded with every hotel room I checked into, how "from a different planet" I am from the masses. The rooms are now filled with mirrors on every wall. I simply cannot understand why anyone would want to look at themselves so much. Is this a sign of the times? Bring back the bad hotel room art!

[Magical Realist]

Retirement is the gradual dawning on oneself of the absolute bliss of not having to be anywhere else. Just like a tree. And it's exactly the way you were meant to be.

[Magical Realist]

There is a way of being aware by becoming the opposite of what one seeks to be aware of. In Jungian terms its called the process of enantiodromia--of everything eventually becoming its opposite. The ultimate example of this is death, a state totally shrouded in mystery and unknownness that shadows every aspect of our lives. We do not know about it by experiencing it. We only know about it empirically thru the absolute and permanent disappearance of certain loved beings in our lives. Our goldfish. Our dog. Our grandparents. Our beloved pop culture star. And eventually our own parents and siblings. And it is only in this physically-objective sense that we experience death as grief and loss. And yet still we live in complete ignorance of what it is in-itself. Only by living our life to its fullest do we intuitively grasp this fear of our mortality, of our future inexistence, as a delusion. Only by becoming our life itself do we accept our own death not as finality and loss but as transcendence and continuity and promise. Life is always bravely surging ahead and not getting bogged down with fear and grief. As Robert Frost put it: “In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on.”

---

On the superfluity of the subjective...

Let's face it. In the terms of how we habitually evaluate objects and events in our world, our own subjective qualia--of how we feel about things---has very little significance. That is how the whole notion of objectivity arose, as always what is functional and necessary in the physical order of reality and stripped of all feeling and affect. What we feel is thus constantly discarded as bogus and irrelevant when it comes to survival and adaptation. "Just the facts mam!"

And yet, is not this whole vibrant subjective aspect of our experience, always adorning everything that happens to us with our own individual and felt values and interpretation precisely what we most value in ourselves and in all humans? Yes..it is. It is this ability of the subjective to constantly elude the mechanistic plotline of objective reality--to happen as if of its own accord superfluously and as something "extra"--that defines us as souls wandering in a soulless world. Contrary to all expectations, it is the true value of everything that happens in our lives. It is how we make of what happens us to something supremely personal and aesthetic and poignant in itself that elevates us from primitive bestial automatons to cultured and creative builders of our civilized world.

[Magical Realist]

We are largely made up of our past--a residual world that doesn't even exist anymore. We chug right along just going thru the motions. We are ghosts long before we ever die. It doesn't have to be this way. Seize the day!

[Image: C0W1nmQ.webp?fbclid=IwY2xjawS9ZVRleHRuA2...wgK8Ps74mQ]

[Magical Realist]

One cannot deny that any thought we express has an objective and public existence in itself. It is after all an arrangement of words and sentences on a screen that everybody can access and understand. Yet at the same time we take it to be an expression of our own private and unique minds, something that previously existed only for us and for us alone. Thus does language bridge the gap as it were between what is mental and subjective with what is physical and objective. We are miraculous conduits thru which ideas become realities.

“Language signifies when instead of copying thought it lets itself be taken apart and put together again by thought. Language bears the sense of thought as a footprint signifies the movement and effort of a body."---M. Merleau-Ponty

[Magical Realist]

Deconstructing "dirtiness"..

The concept of something being "dirty" seems quite relative to me. We say our hands are dirty, but the dirt on the hands wasn't dirty before it got on our hands. Is the grease on the bicycle chain we were reinstalling with our hands dirty? No. Is dirt on the ground dirty? No. Are dishes dirty while we are eating off them? No. Only afterwards. Is a towel dirty after you dry off from taking a shower? Poppycock! And a dirty martini contains no dirt in itself, just olive brine.

Dirty then not as a state in itself but as a relative term for some substance not being where it usually is. As if substances have some unspoken moral obligation to remain in one place. Dirtiness as the crime of molecular vagrancy. The motto of all clean-freaks: "God in his heaven and everything in its right place."

https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=NUnXxh5U25Y

[Magical Realist]

They need to come up with a word for when we almost cry but hold it back. Just like we always experience and see in interviews with people. When they are suddenly quiet for a moment and then regain their composure. Heart swells maybe? Verklempt? lol

[Magical Realist]

The less time I have on earth the less I hurry. Life here is just practice for living timelessly.

---

It is interesting to me that archaeologists thousands of years from now will be able to excavate ancient landfills down to a layer of a sudden appearance of plastic coffee cup lids and straws. Billions upon billions of them. This will come to be known as the GCDE or Great Coffee Drink Explosion circa the 1990's AD, roughly around the same time the mysterious and short-lived "grunge tribes" roamed the American Pacific Northwest.

---

I saw this symbol drawn on the sidewalk in chalk at the park the other day. It's still there now. That same day on my newsfeed a post came up describing it. It's called "The Merkaba"--or a spinning protective light field that envelops the body. It is likened to a chariot. I have "coincidentally" been observing some sort of pale blue sheet of energy before me as I walk thru the park. It spins and shifts from left to right like some sort of living protective shield. Hmm..the archetypes are restless of late!

[Image: ChjxDBe.jpg]