as simple as breathing

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

lately i’ve been considering the possibility that our energies are synced. do you think it is a coincidence that my mom and i both couldn’t sleep last night? do you think it is a coincidence when you think of someone random and then you see them later that day? maybe you can’t get someone out of your head because they’ve been thinking about you too. maybe someone shows up in your dream because you showed up in theirs. i mean to suggest that we’re synced in a way that we cannot perceive, reacting constantly to each other in a way that is not just through our words or through body language. “subconsciously” is perhaps the closest word i can use to get to the thing itself, but it involves an interpersonal network, somewhat of a “collective subconscious” which links us all.

 

 

 

 

yes, okay, i’ve been thinking about vibes (again), but don’t let this word scare you away. my friend jake suggested the alternate term “biorhythms”, if you like that better. on a practical level, i’ve been thinking that phone behavior magnifies the evidence. for example when you pick up your phone to text someone and they’re already calling you. or when you receive an unexpected text and you don’t have to look at your screen to know, to have this gut feeling of who it is. i’m pretty sure i’m not the only person this happens to. maybe if you start looking out for it you will start to notice it. maybe you think of a person because they spoke your name somewhere else, to someone else. maybe we cross paths more often then we think, in a metaphysical world.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Georgia O’Keefe (1887-1986) searched for the feeling of infinity through her clear, universalizing forms. Like traditional Japanese flower painters, whose art Van Gogh himself described “as simple as breathing,” O’Keefe explored the idea that art could be meditative, allowing the mind to contemplate the spiritual and philosophical truths which belie all natural ones.

 

 

 

 

 

“The universe lies outspread in floods of white light…There is no name for this life unless it be the very vitality of vita. Silent is the preacher about this, and silent must ever be, for he who knows it will not preach”

~Henry David Thoreau

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’m having difficulty embedding this video, but it’s a part of this post, this music, this vita.

 

 

 

today’s featured artists: andreia gil, christian zander,ana pater

dot dot dot (when two mirrors face each other)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[…a struggle to render those truths in Nature which for Her are eternal, but are as yet for the multitude but new]

~Stephane Mallarme, 1876

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

carmel seymour

 

 

my uncle made a good point yesterday. he’s an author, and i was sharing with him my insecurities about writing fiction, my fear that there is already so much out there that it may be impossible for me to write something original. in addition to mentioning that whatever i write will become original as i write it- for no writer expresses in the same exact way, no matter how basic the plotline- he also explained that a writer never really knows whether what they’re doing is important or groundbreaking in the moment they’re writing it anyway. they’re just writing, because it is a condition, because they have to. when you think about it, most writers never achieve fame or success in their lifetimes. we don’t recognize what a writer has done until fifty, sixty years later, when someone wonders how we got to where we are today, and, in offering an explanation, goes back in time to pinpoint the critical texts which have changed the idea of what writing is, does and can be. in other words, we don’t understand a text’s effect, if it truly is an origin, until we see what comes after it. this notion is liberating, for it suggests that there is nothing to lose in writing- that all you can do is start, and keep going. after all words are free, you can’t ever use them all up, and the only limitation that exists is the crippling fear that you can.

 

 

 

 

 

  

 

[Let two mirrors reflect each other; then Satan plays his favorite trick and opens here in his way (as his partner does in lovers’ gazes) the perspective on infinity…]

-Walter Benjamin

 

 

Gemma Capdevila

 

nothing is ever complete…