Aspect of Architecture

“A well-crafted sentence overturns the notion that thought is distinct from thinking.  A well-crafted sentence enacts the sense it makes rather than representing it.  The result of writing well-crafted sentences is that your reader will have the most vivid sense that something is happening to him or her and with the irresistible urgency of their own dreams.”

“Dedicate yourselves to reading most energetically that which you don’t immediately understand.  Read with a special attention to the prospect that what doesn’t appear to make sense matters most because of the possibilities of sense-making that are portended in it.”

author Alan Singer

taken from:

Our Mysterious Callings, er, befuddling vocations

continuing qualia…


{eliminating parts of speech and tense(-ing)s}

            Where we began, and when, was next-to-nothing.  How must have been something, and the what bears repeating.  Complex and variegated channels, ganglia alike to beans taking root, nutty and filigreed.

The event is conception and all its pertinent involve (where-when-events) – resultant growth of hairy little what-hows.

What is a theme-and-variations composition, melodies often scarce to trace, but certainly music!  Thrumming drumming subtle, with irregulating tremors, shushing swinging bellowed strings, replete with punctuations.  A human is a riffing thing, something of artist’s collage coupling biological systems and common laws relatively, referred to as patterns.

Person is an unstaid element, living requiring stimulation and acknowledgements, enough continuity to be.  Elaborate contexts of nurturing structures and their vice-versas.  Cells swimming fluids, objects in umwelts, mini-beasts scuttling a globe, as seen from various distances (perspectives not visibly limited).

Existences like screens full of mimeographed transparencies layered and colored by hands.  Bewildering tangles of syrup and string.  Odd combos when mirrored by mirrors, as mirroring means.  Two-sided at least.  Reflected subjectivities / subjective reflections, sort of spinning things set on a gyro turning tilting.

Nurturing structures of what-hows commons: language, culture, environment and arts.  Structuring nurture of sustaining nourishment, awareness (attention) and semblance of security.

And there you have a person (a what-how) and a world (where-when-event); synonymously person-making-world, er, world-making-person toggling looping recursive spirals adjusting discontinuous connectivities…

Perhaps each and overall what-how’s where-when-events all beggar why (i.e. remain puzzling) at which point (or somesuch of the like) there probably arises a who.  Who and why as yet unknown, being conjectured derivatives only from how-what in where-when-events.

All demanding further potentially endless inquiry and study and inventive erasures of conventional grammars and parts of speech.

To be continued…

New Categories? Paradigms? Readerly Ontology?

Charles S Peirce stuff

“To understand how language works, what pitfalls it conceals, what its possibilities are is to understand a central aspect of the complicated business of living the life of a human being”

S. I. Hayakawa

“Thinking is a truceless act. / How it holds the injured yets and thens inside it, so many layers of barter /

and resist.  You who are all swerve, / Distance and blindfold when I try to find you – “

Laurie Sheck

“The world of art and culture is a vast commons, one that is salted through with zones of utter commerce yet remains splendidly immune to any overall commodification.  The closest resemblance is to the commons of a language: altered by every contributor, expanded by even the most passive user.  That a language is a commons doesn’t mean that the community owns it; rather it belongs between people, possessed by no one, not even by society as a whole”

Jonathan Lethem

 

A strong mid-section

OCTOBER 2011

POSTMODERNISM AS LIBERTY VALANCE: NOTES ON AN EXECUTION

THE RITUAL KILLING OF POSTMODERN LITERATURE IS A THREE-MAN GUNFIGHT AT THE O.K. CORRAL (ALLEGORICALLY SPEAKING)

Finding a lot of resonances and curiosities in this collection that I’d like to recommend – a fruitful pattering of words to engage – I especially have liked the introduction (can’t find pdf of online) and then I thought the midsection of the essay linked above (click anywhere on the opening titles to read) was strong and productive.

“…as if there is always a little less in the response than in the question.”

-Maurice Blanchot-

Metamorphosis: 2013: Insect Intensity

Termite Art

Working the edges and angles.  “Part of the woodwork,” they say, though not in a structural sense – rather more a destructural or deconstructional way, one should probably add.  We’re usually fairly quiet, but work is constant, at times involving even groups or clans.  What we create looks like a whole full of holes.  Feeding on the solid, reducing it to doubtful tunnels, leaving some beautiful patterns.  Rhythmic, at least.  Once in a while you can hear the hum of our work, but more often than not our efforts are simply stumbled upon.

What you once thought sturdy enough to lean upon often crumbles out from under.  Usually we’ve been there first and found the flaws.  We scramble and burrow, many even fly.  Keeping mostly to ourselves, gnawing and chawing away at the things we all believe in and trust, things assumed to hold fast and true, the shapes that give substance to lives.

Of course many consider us sinister nuisances, think we work to undermine, but we really don’t take much – just leave it considerably different than when we first come upon it and passage our way through.  Left to ourselves we accomplish a lot, are industrious, but we’re more often pestered, hampered, sealed-off, even (and yes, I’m serious!) exterminated!  Treated as pests or threats or dangers.

We might be admired, theoretically, but we’re never welcomed as guests.  Not invited in houses where public or money are smelled.  There we’re only talked about – as worming and wriggling our ways through the infrastructures – “fluttery, ephemeral critters” we’re called – parasitic to power and ultimately debilitating if left unconfronted.

Harmless enough as ourselves, simple units to squash, but we happen to be many.  Think: ants.  Think: pestilent plague.

We can be quite beautiful in the light (as a specimen!) – translucent and fine and opaque, exhibiting a powerful delicacy.  But given free reign we undo the foundations, and therefore, it is feared, the whole edifice too.  An elephant, for instance, might be trained – used for tricks or for jokes – is easy to keep an eye on, but not us “weasly and scuttling creatures,” no, no.

All I’m saying is that some of us are always eating away at the edges and bounds, plundering thresholds, slobbering the barriers and gates – they’ll acknowledge us if forced to – but with a mind to be rid of.  If featured, we watch out for the shadows and sprays, closed quarters and boots.  They’ll let us have slush piles and compost, a few trimmings or what’s already abandoned, but it’s always in hopes – always – of keeping us OUT.  Mark my words, no one really loves a thriving insect but itself.  Grind and tear with all you’ve got, our lives are short and there’s much to do.

Requiring so little, any medium will do, only to find access…and…wizzle inside…

“A peculiar fact about termite-tapeworm-fungus-moss art is that it goes always forward eating its own boundaries, and, likely as not, leaves nothing in its path other than the signs of eager, industrious, unkempt activity.

The most inclusive description of the art is that, termite-like, it feels its way through walls of particularization, with no sign that the artist has any object in mind other than eating away the immediate boundaries of his art, and turning these boundaries into conditions of the next achievement.”

-Manny Farber-

Identity & Flipping Numbers like Coins

What exactly is it about the arbitrary changing of numbers, parceling of time, divisions and subdivisions of existent moments, that prompts and wriggles us to consider change – feel obligated or massaged toward it – dream of it?  I can say that in all my dizzying thoughts about it – how society and culture (Petrie-dish like) inundate and stimulate individuated personal alterations – I cannot figure out why crossword-puzzle-like taxonomies and designations of life-fragments labeled by stick-systems of reference, mathematical calculations and so forth stimulate (simulate?) desires, wishes, regrets, metamorphic movements in the human gang…

Be that as it may, today is the first day of the first month of the year containing 0-1-2-3 (my wife comments what a delightful play that  must be for numerologists), and while my beloved is out signing up at the Y and beginning self-care with new devotion, I am denuding my desk, dusting and polishing its surface, taking revised stock of the pounds of books that weight its surface, reorganizing, selecting, making hard choices about what is necessary for me TODAY with some forward thinking.  The numbers have changed.  The game must be different, no?

In the process, I open a drawer I apparently haven’t for a very long time, coming across a miniature moleskine notebook, first entry dated January 2003!  A decade ago, how interesting!  I leaf through…and here are some of the things that capture my attention:

  • a quote from my son Aidan (he would have been 5 at the time) on being unable to remember something:  “it’s in my brain, I just can’t find the right aisle.”
  • and Steinbeck: “its inhabitants, as the man once said, ‘whore, pimps, gamblers and sons of bitches,’ by which he meant everybody.  Had the man looked through another peephole he might have said ‘saints and angels and martyrs and holy men,’ and he would have meant the same thing.”
  • Cixous: “it is this hunger for flesh and for tears, our appetite for living, that, at the tip of forsaken fingers, makes a pencil grow.”
  • Handke:  “in any case, I experienced moments of extreme speechlessness and needed to formulate them – the motive that has led men to write from time immemorial.”
  • “Books should not flatter our sense of self.  They should investigate it.  I read another person in order to get better at interrogating my own unexamined narrative” – Richard Powers

The last entry reads like this…”We used to always pick models or icons we wanted to be like: have what they had, whole persona and possessions – WHO would I want to be?  … When does it hit you that you only want to be you with some other life?”

Wonder where I was…a kind of number-flipping query…

further to go….2013

“It’s always a question of beginnings”

Another year.  The title of this post comes from Helene Cixous’ introduction to Clarice Lispector’s The Stream of Life, both books being part of the tight reliable necessities of each of my own repeated beginnings.  No matter how I try otherwise, when the first of a calendrical year comes around with its socio-cultural aura-like atmospheric influence of the idea of new beginnings…I find myself tracking to the shelves for these few cellular texts like the body seeks to breathe.  This has been my inalterable habit for so many years now, that I can not avoid recommending them (with the highest deepest forms of  loving attachment), to all of you.

“evoking the incommunicable realms of the spirit,

where dream becomes thought,

where trace becomes existence…

I write you because I do not understand myself…

it is always a question of beginnings.”

“And for many years I have been writing,

borne by writing,

this book that book;

and now, suddenly, I sense it:

among all these books is the book I haven’t written;

haven’t ceased not to write.”

and additionally, today:

“What I mean is, if you have ink in your blood it’s hard to get it out of your hands…

Our reputation for excellence is unexcelled, in every part of the world.

And will be maintained until the destruction of our art in some other art which is just as good but which,

I am happy to say, has not yet been invented.”

“Samuel Beckett: Try again.  Fail again.  Fail better…

to conceive of writing as a possibility space where everything can and should be considered, attempted, and troubled.”

May your 2013 be filled with incredible texts and integral growth and development!

back at it with renewed vigor for the new year!