Image by lenoredoll
My contrary, dirt bag brain likes patterns, dichotomies, sass, and perviness amongst many other things. Today, not an exception. Allow me to explain:
I believe most of us are looking for beauty, meaning, connection, and overall, happiness from existence within the confines of this mortal coil. So in following the quixotic quest of those before us, we open our senses to the ephemeral preciousness all around and try to capture those moments for ourselves and to share.
Photos, writing, music, poetry, painting, choreography, textiles, wood, art, and all records of human expression: so much has been given, and there is still so much to pay forward. We are pursuing our humanity as much as we are part of continually defining it.
For those of us that prefer our personal and, hopefully, universal truths concisely and eloquently stated by great thinkers of the past and philosophers of today, you may find inspired ideas in Alan Watt’s, The Wisdom of Insecurity.
"The real reason why human life can be so utterly exasperating and frustrating is not because there are facts called death, pain, fear, or hunger. The madness of the thing is that when such facts are present, we circle, buzz, writhe, and whirl, trying to get the “I” out of the experience. We pretend that we are amoebas, and try to protect ourselves from life by splitting in two. Sanity, wholeness, and integration lie in the realization that we are not divided, that man and his present experience are one, and that no separate “I” or mind can be found."
And we may try to put into practice multiple, joining concepts (that some what hurt our brains in that delicious kind of way) through photography and writing, attempting presence and reflecting on the experience to share with others.
The photo I chose to develop today called to me in that unconscious way The way when something catches your eye, you look closer to find nothing there, and you realize you’ve already moved across the length of a room.
The more I looked at the photo, the more it reminded me of my childhood adventure stories like Where the Wild Things Are and My Neighbor Totoro. My eye followed the white streak lines and formed character silhouettes from the snow blob. A sense of magic emerged from the memory recovering and discovering.
I began to write the first thing that came to mind–“…like nostalgia slapped me in the face and went down on me.” Huh, okay. Looking at the photo again to refocus, I started to see a phallic creature spewing streams of jizz in hentai-esque style. Great…
This is what my brain gives me for trying to find meaning where there isn’t any at 2 in the morning.