LXXIX

 

What do we mean by structure?

 

What is the relation among form, desire and intention?

 

Western dualism: White vs. Black hats: in which, with a bang, being renders anti-being non-being, then rides off into the sunset, strangely dark in silhouette.

 

There is a principle in things, about which we cannot be deceived, but must always, on the contrary recognize the truth – viz., that the same thing cannot at one and the same time be and not be, or admit any other similar pair of opposites. From Metaphysics, in The Basic Work of Aristotle, ed. (and trans.?) by Richard McKeon.

 

Oh wow, someone tell Schrodinger’s cat the good news, I mean the bad news, I mean…

 

Yet, every day, poetics micro-suture the split retina of philosophic blindness.

 

It scatters, it gathers, it comes and goes. Said Heraclitus, oncet.

 

Does reality really live by chopping itself in two?

 

The death grip of “pure” reason. The dead hand, hidden only from the insensible.

 

Dug up under a condo development in Cordoba, and immediately suppressed: Aristotle’s great lost work on gastronomics, wherein appears the first know recipe for frim-fram sauce over ausen-fay. With chifafa on the side.

Good eats in the belly of the beast.

Mais, s’il n’existe, Garçon, donnez-moi l’addition pour de l’eau.

 

Pace T.E., everything is written. Nothing is dispositive. Yet is your eighth Brough Superior that brings you to ∞

 

Brother Painter: in a painting where a mountain is prominent, it will usually be considered yang. If the “same” mountain appears in the distance in a seascape, it will usually be considered yin.

 

You can attach your constitution to the deployment of change, or wait in hope and dread for an “existential” crisis to arise and initiate movement – which, in any case, has been happening all the while.

 

Crise de foie

            Reckless qi, like a mad river, flows up down and sideways round

 

Sister Writer: how to express, in a European language, the tenuous jing, or the subtle wei, without blurring your thoughts, without collapsing into muddled words? How to grasp ideas without their vanishing, or without your vanishing into them?

 

And as for Plotinus, he thickens, grows more turbid, even as he dreams of a supreme and transcendent One beyond all being and non-being.

Yet Plotinus melts into Porphyry, the hardest rock known to antiquity, prize material for the timeless monument.

And to think, it’s all happening once upon in the was-t.

 

Henosis, mon amour.

 

Ver yinteresting…

 

Bourgeois values

over easy

 

What do we mean by sensible?

 

Great sonority in little sound: Laozi.

A few notes on the lute, it is said, are sufficient to allow us to hear the silence they will return.

 

When considering the human body, attention should be given to the energy-breath (qi) as well as to the ossature. Now, rocks are the ossature of Heaven and Earth which are likewise permeated by energy-breath. This is why rocks are called “Cloud-roots.” [Painted] rocks devoid of energy-breath are dead rocks (petrified) in exactly the same way that the ossature of a human body with out the energy-breath is dead (sclerosed). This from the opening of The Mustard Seed Garden.

 

 

“Cloud-roots” is not a poetic metaphor, but states a truth: “rocks are not of a different nature from clouds; their concretion is merely denser and more solid.” Therefore, the painter’s task is to “open up the rock to its inner, invisible dimension so that within the stone the physical and the material can decant and expand…” The painter must open her or himself up to “the lines of force (shi) that run through its [the rock’s] configuration and channel the flow of cosmic energy, just as the energetic pathways [meridians] in the human body do.” Jullien, …Nude, p. 71.

 

 

But, uh, which came first, henosis or the egg?

Stenosis. What a difference.

 

Ratemylaozi.com

 

Baby Doc.

Worlds of difference inhere. And out there.

 

The Erotic Life of Bees.

 

The centaur will not hold.

 

When hobo sapiens ruled the (d)earth.

 

Dea(r)th. And toxins.

All will be reviled.

 

Tequila Mockingbird.

Waltzing my tilde.

 

A dark satyr runs round the belly of a vase to copulate with the white nymph on the opposite side.

Symplegma, mon amour, yet they remain figured on the surface – and the satyr does not penetrate the clay and take a short cut across the diameter. Rules are rules.

Yet somehow, after centuries of black figures on red clay backgrounds, someone in Attica or thereabouts gets the idea to paint red figures against black backgrounds. And quick as you please, the new style replaces the old one. But for all that, these were vases they were going through, nothing more.