Sickness: Deep Waves of Whale songs
Stress and Immune System
I got the trembles for fear of the craft show. I woke up a few times trembling. These tremors in my core shock my immune system more often than not. I succumbed to a cold and my brain shifted into such an interesting way of thinking. I'm achy and sweating. All higher frequencies stop. There is a deep slow movement of waves. I put seemingly random thoughts together in ways that fascinate me. Questions, hypothesis, searching. This happens every time I get sick.
What does nature have to say about this? The active release of deep sonar, feeling my way and peering beneath the sea floor. Whats under there? Become the whale. These thoughts I have when I am physically ill are not ephemeral. They stick with me for a very long time. When I got shingles last year I thought of things that set in motion current paths I am on now. I will continue to face my fears and relish the process of discovery even if I do become sick from it.
Sink or Swim, Duality and Non-Duality
I don't normally share any works in progress, but this one is complete (I think). I did a meditation on sink or swim this morning. Sinking is negative and failure. I was gathering desert 4 o'clock seeds recently (best time of year for gathering these is when the flowers are dried to a crisp) and I studied the variety of shapes, how often a flower provided seeds and how many. Seems random. Seems like nature. One method to test viability in seeds is to drop them in water. If they sink they are good. If they float they are bad.
I ask my Teacher "what will you have me learn here? Should one sink or swim? What do you want from me!" This "scientific" method abutted to an opposing common idiom. A nice thing to mediate on. Could it be that sinking provides moments of enlightenment? All is connected so both thoughts can be true. Non-duality. Searching through chaos theory and duality for answers. The concepts of Tao and chaos and non-duality are sucking me in. Time to sink. Whats this? https://arxiv.org/abs/2011.01304#:~:text=In%20this%20paper%2C%20we%20discuss,flow%20of%20the%20renormalization%20group.
and this
https://medium.com/the-circular-theory/duality-afc81564e9ef "Half chaos. Half order" I wrote a short prose about playing pool in my last blog post. The way I play or think of it is half chaos and half order. I kinda have to move through life like that. Interesting this article has that very phrase. This article got me thinking about logic gates too. Kinda dumbed down, but not horrible article
https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=2953347#:~:text=Taoism%20is%20the%20concept%20of,sense%20with%2D%20out%20each%20other. "Taoism: Eastern Message of Non-Duality" This article is quite good
Consistent Self
Consistent. Unchanging in nature. My younger sister found boxes of old school things from when we were kids. We plan to look through them next month on my visit. She sent me pictures and I instantly recalled a memory.
I was in 2nd grade, my teacher had us write each day in our books. My writing was always scrunched at the bottom since I ran out of room and I had doodles. My teacher called me to her desk to review my work. She said "Amanda, you always have so much crammed into the bottom of your pages". I distinctly remember thinking that I failed since I should have written a story that fit the confines of the single page. I was a worried student. She said "You know you can write on more than one page and include pictures if you want." The next day I had a completely fantastical story with pictures filling 2 pages. I know the story exactly and that there was a rainbow of course. She was very proud of me and asked if she could show them to neighboring teachers. She planted the seed that maybe I should be a writer.
In that very same class, I did dumb shit like pour glue all over my hands in order to let it dry and peel it off since it felt so cool. I got other students at the table to do the same and we all hid our glued hands under the table when the teacher walked by. She noticed suspicious activity and asked "show me your hands!". I told this story to a friend in high school and we laughed. She created a bitchin playlist called "SHOW ME YOUR HANDS!": https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLif8OcxJU3AEr1M_xDldRqnThmScgPQnY&si=BUXeGazOjOXLO9pJ Yes, I fucking licked all the markers. They smelled delicious and I was hungry. Reminds me of the Bjork song "Enjoy". One of my favorites.
"I wish I'd only lookAnd didn't have to touchI wish I'd only smell thisAnd didn't have to taste"
Most of my teachers and my grandma told me I would grow up to be an artist and writer. But I wanted science. I wanted space exploration, soil, waves. I think of myself as a mediocre artist that uses the medium out of a need.
A need to express a feeling, meditation, composition of complex emotions interplaying. I have a visual representation for particular feelings. I don't do this on purpose, it kinda just happens.
Examples of symbols in my work
I was living in the Bay Area and completely stoned out of my gourd. I went for a walk on a beautiful day. I noticed weird shapes in the shadows. Once I saw a few, I saw them everywhere. Crescent shapes. Crescent shapes in all the shadows under trees, on buildings, on fences. Everywhere. Stacked on top of one another, strewn about in spikes of clean lines everywhere there used to be soft shadows. I started to think I got too stoned. I found out soon after there was an ECLIPSE. A fucking eclipse. But since I live under a rock in my seclusion I had no clue. That jarring, odd, uncomfortable, otherworldly feeling never left my existence. It haunts my dreams. It is now a symbol I use for that very feeling. Crescent shapes.
Deep red embarrassment. A type of embarrassment that is felt so to my core and is mostly brought out by my own thinking. I start thinking, how do people see me? what must they think of my childishness or spontaneity? Silly, foolish. Maybe I asked the wrong thing of someone. Maybe I said something dumb. The feeling to me is like thick viscous magma in ripples that drops and drops and drops, one after another of every embarrassment I ever had piles up and congeals into a seething hot blob. The heat radiates from my flushed face. Why wont the ground open and swallow me whole? Like a steaming cow pie on a cold morning. Red hot pile of magma. (this very same magma is represented in different ways in many of my personal collection of paintings. Explosive. Cooled with embers. Red and blacks dominate those)
Time and Taste Frequencies. This one is too complicated maybe. It has to do with punctuations in time, my existence, things that I find pleasurable? I used to hate cheddar cheese as a child. One day I realized I loved it and eat a fuck ton of cheese now. I like the stinky, gooey, hard, salty, funky, moldy.
With all that in mind. How does one interpret this? This scene is similar to ones I have drawn in sketchbooks a million years ago. It's a common theme. I think it means something and I am still discovering it.
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