Where do ideas come from? What’s the source of creativity? I kind of go along with *Wittgenstein who argued that taste and reason, while important in shaping the end-product, don’t “give birth.” What does give birth? I don’t know -- something weird happening in the flow of ichor through the vast, innumerable catacombs of the brain.
But not knowing doesn’t stop my imagination from coming up with something. So I imagine a cauldron hanging over simmering coals in a dark cave. In the cauldron, a viscous fluid churns and, occasionally, a bubble surfaces, releasing a little puff of vapor. And there it is, an idea.
Maybe the idea is rubbish, probably it is, but that’s yet to be determined. Most puffs of ideas disappear quickly -- some process of rational and aesthetic judgment coupled with emotional undercurrents quickly consigns the puff to oblivion. Some survive a little longer and, with me, might even get jotted down in a notebook.
The ideas are undeveloped and probably won't be, I thought a few might be worth trotting out onto the blog once in a while (for entertainment purposes only) ...
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Emotions fade, even perceived wrongs against us. To sustain a grudge requires work — one must periodically shovel coal onto the fire. How we feel about something, strangely, is one of the few things we can control.
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Reading poetry aloud. Yet when I do, I impose my own voice and cannot hear the author’s.
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The words we have for emotions are crude. A rhythm on the bongos creates an emotion but there’s no word for it. Another rhythm, another emotion that has no word.
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A Lakota warrior who could find his way through prairies, hills, mountains and forests for a thousand miles in any direction — he was never lost. I wonder if for him it was even possible to be lost. It would be like getting lost in your own home. Is the man who finds his way with GPS tracking better off? Is he the better man?
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dithyramb obliquity
no babysitter crooked stick
doomgoggles peltast
a clod of dirt crumbles in my hand
Penelope Cruise
[Don’t ask. I have no idea.]
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I think I am a woman who wished she were a man and got her wish.
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Sentient Plasma Energy Being #1
Solid matter has got to exist; it’s the only way to account for the anomalous data. I’m telling you, it works! When you assume solid matter, the math comes out right.
Sentient Plasma Energy Being #2
Preposterous. The fact that you have to invoke “solid matter” just exposes the weakness of your theory. There’s no direct evidence. All you have is shaky inferences, born more from the need to make your theory work than any substantive indication that solid matter exists. It’s like the old religions when people believed there were magic solid beings that communicated with prophets and mediums.
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Embodiment of the Autumn Monkey
- Book of Five Rings, Musashi
The idea of keeping your elbows close to your body when sword fighting: The point being that retracted arms are poised to strike, extended arms are vulnerable, and you don’t want your body to “lag behind” your arms.
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I can never know reality but I can at least peel back some of the layers of the onion.
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It’s silly to think that what I create comes from the Golden Light of My Genius. I’m too intertwined with the world around me. Yet at the same time, collaborative art can be difficult.
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I mistrust certainty; exhortations of unwavering belief are lies — if not the dishonest kind, then the self-deceiving kind. One can’t know; one can only pretend to know.
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a deep current of pain
a veneer of resigned sadness
little bubbles of joy now and then
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If aliens visited, what would they find interesting about people?
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