Reckoning

Sooner or later Little Squashbean, there comes a time when you have to answer, up or down, yeah or neigh, affirm or deny.  Will you know what to do when sitting in that hot seat, in that dimly lit room, arms at your sides attached at the shoulders but not firmly anchored anywhere else.  This is it, everybody faces it whether they know it or not.  The curtains keep out the essential truth of the matter, the chair’s padding eases the discomfort a little,,, but wait, it’s not the best height.   And the ukulele case is still on the chair even when you’re trying to look natural.  Now there’s a farce.  Time comes soon enough, it seems inevitable, but it could be that there is no real progression after all; this is just the warp that Higgs talked about.

 

 

 

Nikkormat FTn, 35mm Nikkor O, TriX

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Turn Off

A curious admonition to turn off, and while doing so, don’t smoke.  All placed on this hanging box that today has no content other than atmosphere and spider webs.  Problem is that turning off is already a too common activity, as the Danger warning suggests.  Some identify smoking with turning on but I submit that is semantic and does not reflect the effort required to turn on and stay on.  Smoking could detract from the ability to turn on, so its presence here is problematic.  More should turn on and engage the sapience of our hominid background.  What is curious is the reference to an engine.  The engine of the mind?

 

 

 

Nikkormat EL, 50mm f/1.4, Fomapan 100

It’s a sickly stew

As you paddle all around in your big canoe, Canandaigua, look at the substrate and its discontinuities.  What color is the water?  How can you know without thought of how the water is perceived.  Getting close to the edge might risk grounding.  Or getting poked by a big stick.  The water is white depending on the filters in your visual path – it could be blue, green, red.  Or mauve I suppose if you live in a place that claims Culture.  Mozart died a pauper and Shostakovich ran from those with license on violence.  Yet even without knowledge of the true color, the canoe still floats and still provides transport.  It’s the difference between necessity and a uniquely human  experience.  I doubt Rover ever pays any attention to the color before jumping right in.   And you?

 

 

 

Nikkormat EL, 50mm f/1.4, Fomapan 100

with a green filter.  

Nocturne waltz

Warp and woof describe the threads in a woven cloth.  Woof threads are the crossways threads that get intermingled with the lengthwise warp depending on the weave pattern.  There is a pattern here, Squiggley, one that relates the wharf to the goings ons in your everyday life.  Time The Avenger pushes ever so gently but insistently on the warp of life while hominids scurry about trying to make something of their woof.  The wharf is merely the transfer point where warp and woof might meet.  And the color and weave?  Most are never cognizent but I would argue this is where the mind comes in.  Pay attention to science, as it defines the woof in the context of the warp, in other words the weave.  And the arts, well done not casual, add the color to the fabric.  Most never recognize the brilliance of the coloring; the creators are those very rare sapiens.  At what point do political structures come into this picture I argue are only the machine that makes it possible to do quickly.   Hominids were weaving well before machines were  thought to be needed.  Are they really?

 

 

 

F Photomic FT, 35mm Nikkor O, Fomapan 100

Boxing it Up

The transition called ‘back to school’ has started, meaning that a segment of the population now trades hours of electronic tyranny for the opportunity to sit in a box and be exposed to Knowledge, sapient and otherwise.  The mass of culture is not proportionate to the static mass of human rather to the ability to transit its precepts.  Even then, the provision of the opportunity does not ensure its transmission.  Birds never build their own houses.  But are the houses built for birds really bird houses, or are they imaginary products?

 

 

 

Nikkormat FT, Nikkor UD 20 mm, Fomapan 100

Labor Day

Once each year the Working Man is celebrated.  Equating labor with work with effort should equate to a pleasurable day.  Here the farm is long quiet, one kind of work is taken over by another.  This is the lesson of Nature.  There is no relaxation, and no inherent pleasure.   And the current batch of hominids seems to confuse pleasure with loud motorcycles and self-mutilation.  Can the Singularity come soon enough?

 

 

 

 

Nikkormat EL, 50 mm f/1.4, Fomapan 100

Muggy

A century or more ago, this mowed meadow was farmed.  Even on hot muggy August days, Farmer Robert and his sons were working this ground.  no work, no survival.  no effort, no reward but this time the reward meant something.  How much water did they drink to replenish the sweat spilled on this ground?  It is interesting that knowing this does not diminish the enjoyment of the scene when rounding this corner early in the morning.  Walking the Louvre or paying attention throughout Turangalila requires effort but the rewards of the entity are great.  How can the de-linkage of effort with reward characteristic of electronic entertainment be signs of sapienism?

 

 

Nikkormat FT, NikkorO 35 mm f/2, Fomapan 100