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I wondered as I wandered…
… and what shall we say to the woman who’s not impressed by a sky full of light, and well-crafted clouds… who moans at the cruel Fate maliciously denying her a day of sunshine? Will she be any the more impressed by an imaginative etude, as the objects of her scorn are likened to ethereal billows of life itself; eerily suspended above our heads; and so, so...
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On the multiplicity of languages…
Languages are fascinating systems… Puzzles, really… With a language, one begins to think in concrete steps. Steps that can be transferred to another person, with more or less complete understanding. We can now begin to explore… ourselves and our environment. We can begin our quest for understanding, and truth. Without a language… well…
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Intimacy…
The art of Music is one of intimacy. Nothing more… nothing less… It is two or more people agreeing to bare their souls… to go where the Music would have them go, regardless of the space they might be individually inhabiting at the moment. Music is the willingness to open yourself to the vagaries of the unknown. It’s the exploration of humanity, by those who are...
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Illumination…
You cannot receive a personalized, custom-fit illumination from, or for, another. General outlines…? Certainly. A system by which you may begin to explore the universe…? Absolutely! But a one-size fits-all suit of armor, that is nonetheless tailored for your comfort? I have yet to see such an article of clothing… Or the tailor worth his salt who would claim to be able to fashion such...
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Music… still…
Why, you may ask, do I harp on and on about the subject of Music… The answer is simple. (And because the answer is so deceptively simple, I suspect the answer just might true.)
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Again… Music!
Music possesses only the pure perfection of fact – a fact rising in rhythms of sound. Rhythms which seem inhuman, because they’re essentially free from desire, fear and distress. Free from all the visions of glory, honor or the longing we impose upon music’s facade. Free from the emotional baggage, without which we cannot listen to any merely human music. For whatever remains when the merely human has been stripped from...
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The communication of Power…
“Is it not possible still to hold that poetry is power communicated by words in verse, and prose is power communicated by words not in verse?”* And what then may be said of Poetry’s sister energy, Music? That it’s the communication of power is undeniable; but through what medium? Sound? Notes? That’s too simplistic. To define music as merely notes organized to your liking is to equally...
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Zen and the art of Photography…
I’m a hunter… Not of animals. Nor of people. I hunt photos. I venture into the wild: whether that wild be Mother Nature, the streets of Beijing or the confines of a live event somewhere, and stalk my photo.
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Light, Part II…
It’s been said that “… to light a candle is to cast a shadow.” Ah, but must it always be so? What if the problem is not in the paucity of the flame, but in our very understanding of light? What if we could create a light such that all shadows everywhere were banished? What if, instead of a lighting a candle to drive...
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Windows
Literature and poems, and music, and indeed all the arts, are best served when used as windows – into other souls and other realms, into other minds and other cultures – into universes not of your design. But what’s most important is that you not seek your own reflection. You must look through them… away from yourself, and towards that mysterious other. For what can even the...
