Wednesday, June 16, 2010

one...but many.

Something is speaking to me. Many things entered my life today that overlap and intertwine in meaning. Contradicting feelings are leaving me feeling void. Personal issues that I wont go into and information passed on to me that's more universal.

I want to share the more universal.

I'm going to go backwards though. Nick shared this Buckethead song with me that I feel encompasses the journey of these realizations.

Personally I'd play it as you read the rest.

After work I watched COSM for the first time. It's a documentary of Alex Grey's work where he explains the pieces in the Chapel of Sacred Mirrors. It's definitely one of those films you have to watch over and over to catch everything. But some things did stick out to me this time.

"We project the space that surrounds us," he said. We are the reason that our reality exists. We make our life, our life. Later he goes on to say, "The universe couldn't exist if it didn't evolve perfectly as it did." That brought me to the very moment I was experiencing. That exact moment, this exact moment, couldn't exist if everything that has happened thus far did not happen exactly as it had. And later her says, "Millions and millions of realities are happening all over all at once and we are enmeshed in it." That reminds me of the first piece I did this year in 3d Fibers. (which i will post soon). Everyone lives in their own realities and no two realities are a like because everyone experiences everything in different ways. Their are no two feelings alike. Their are no two things alike.

and this brings me to Annie Dillard talking about intricacy. "...even on the perfectly ordinary and clearly visible level, creation carries on with an intricacy unfathomable"

Here is an excerpt of what I read today from her book Pilgrim at Tinker Creek::

Last year I had a very unusual experience. I was awake, with my eyes closed, when I had a dream. It was a small dream about time.
I was dead, I guess, in deep black space high up among many white stars. My own consciousness had been disclosed to me, and I was happy. Then I saw below me a long, curved band of color. As I came closer, I saw it stretched endlessly in either direction, and I understand that I was seeing all the time of the planet where I had lived. I looked like a woman's tweed scarf' the longer I studied any one spot, the more dots of color I saw. There was no end to the deepness and variety of more and more specs of color and deeper and more intricate textures appeared in the fabric, I couldn't find my time, or any time at all that I recognized as being near my time. I couldn't make out so much as a pyramid. Yet as I looked at the band of time, all the individual people, I understood with special clarity, were living at the very moment with great emotion, in intricate detail, in their individual time and places as they were dying and being replaced by every more people, one by one, like stitches in which whole worlds of feeling and energy were wrapped, in a never ending cloth. I remember suddenly the color and texture of our life as we knew it--these things had been utterly forgotten--and I thought as I searched for it on the limitless band, "that was a good time then, a good time to be living." And I began to remember our time.
I recalled green fields with carrots growing, one by one, in slender rows. Men and women in bright vests and scarves came and pulled the carrots out of the soil and carried them in baskets to shaded kitchens, where they scrubbed them with yellow brushes under running water. I saw white-faced cattle lowing and wading in creeks, with dust on the whorled and curly white hair between their ears. I saw may apples in forests, erupting through leaf-strewn paths. Cells on the root hairs of sycamores split and divided, and apples grew spotted and striped in the fall. Mountains kept their cool caves, and squirrels raced home to their nests through sunlight and shade.
I remembered the ocean, and I seemed to be in the ocean myself, swimming over orange crabs that looked like coral, or off the deep Atlantic banks where whitefish school. Or again I saw the tops of poplars, and the whole sky brushed with clouds in pallid streaks, under which wild ducks flew with outstretched necks, and called, one by one, and flew on.
All these things I saw. Scenes grew in depth and sunlit detail before my eyes, and were replaced by ever more scenes, as I remembered the life of my time with increasing feeling.
At last I saw the earth as a glove in space, and I recalled the ocean's shape and the form of continents, saying to myself with surprise as I looked at the planet, "yes, that's how it was then' that part there we called…'France.'" I was filled with the deep affection of nostalgia--and then I opened my eyes.

I love when I notice connections. Now I should do something with these insights. and I think I have an idea...

No comments:

Post a Comment