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Spontaneity, Imagination and Wonder…
The set of expressions resulting from these is where I truly feel at ease. Yet the impression of these, I imagine, seems where ego (with its status or its bragging with myths of what ought to be) seems to get in the way.
Human paradox, how of beauty you are!
While feigning ignorance toward an other’s dismissal, these are my engines of multi-directionality, diversity and the holding of paradoxes —metaphorically, as I imagine quantum entanglement to be experienced; If only I consciously could.
I love life free of the fixed idea; spontaneous. It’s a purely imagined place for my consciousness. A place for those strange loops of mine to roam free, feeding-back within my brain. It is where my childhood’s unicorns, knights, dragons or blue extraterrestrials reside. That life is with spontaneity, imagination and wonder.
A noticeable number of humans seem to slap these down with various shouts that non of them are found in-between the stats, the data, the models, the forecasts, the plans, the urgencies, the importance of seeming busy and better, the P&Ls, the geopolitics, the ideologies, the macroeconomics, the engineered manipulations, calculations, processes, surfaces or mechanisms. There hardly seems a place for wonder, spontaneity, and imagination in the decorum of the imposed real.
Depending on who the judge is: realism, pragmatism, utilitarianism, practicality, rationality or rather cynicism, are unnecessarily referenced as the daggers to their doom; begone spontaneity, imagination and wonder? Is then the real that what is ignited by a degree of fear?
I also wonder… are they paradoxically even more so there, in those who deny the existence, importance and influences of that same yet less matured spontaneity, imagination or wonder?
Are they who dismiss these then also they who resort to external escapes, constructed by the wonder, imagination and spontaneity of others?
Could it be that if one may not wonder, one may not ask; If one may not ask one may not imagine; If one may not imagine one may not express spontaneity; If one may not use these one might not mature these?
A tache de beauté on the model’s face, located on the top right, above the curvature of the lipping graph, unfitting the correlation yet, necessarily there.
If included in an artificial neural network, it is undesirably over-fitted. it is the outcast, the stain, confusing the learning. It is the anecdotal clouding of the generalization.
To fit is to overfit, as is ripe to over-ripe. Yet,…
…what about the cheese, the wine, the alcoholic fruit, touching the beauty of a calculated time? What of the fertility of the germ digested?
what of the wrinkles and ripples given substance to life and to relationship with experience unfitting the dances of the spheres?
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what of that ripple of life, as a tache of the universe; a noise of a germing of beginnings in galaxies otherwise void of it; as a baby’s skin void of experience?
Is its novelty worthwhile the read in ambiguity of meaning, without the noise of the intrigue surrounding its essential patterns to come?
is the novelty of life, the germ of patterns emerging from it, as noise onto the pattern of physics as an overtone onto cosmic springs, vibrating?
The universe’s babbling.
we are not alone: we are with life, beyond the learn’ed curvatures.
therein lies the pattern of the disorganized, the cast-out from the star’s dust, as a noise of an escaping parabolic sphere.
The perceived universe is a history. One’s perceived thoughts are a history. Each inevitably lie in a past; one slightly longer distanced in timespace then the other.
As a child, and still today, I imagine(d) that some attributes that make up interstellar space could function as memory banks for our collective (and individual) information (knowledge, anecdotes, personal stories, that evasive theory or elegant formula, that silly cat video and so on).
As a child, and still in my today’s naivete, I envision(ed) that the information could be encoded onto radiation, onto waves (of light or which ever), used as carrier waves, carried for eternity (or until the next Big Bang) at the speed of near-to-light, across the galaxies, as our echoes of who and what we once were with one another. …Yes, one might prefer to be more cautious, just in case there is that space-faring parasitic yet intelligent species out there. Though, this might be more telling of how we reflect upon ourselves as a species and how we have been perceiving how we (should) relate to other species around us (and vice versa) rather than being about that hypothetical non-terrestrian.
Some might pose that vision without action is delusional. However, I beg that nuances do exist. One can envision something and can, at the least, be exhilarated or rejuvenated when seeing that somehow similar visions are brought to execution by others. Then such delusional self shifts to becoming a meaning-full self. This occurs through a positive psychology of interconnection with that unknown other, by means of the unintended gift of meaning, or hope, through proxy. That is somewhat what stories do; both fictional or less fictional ones.
I have seen the nascence of DNA computing and information storage on DNA , allowing for enormous capacity and durability. I discovered this through the media I browsed.
I have seen the mentioning of 5D data storage through some kind of glass imprinting of information, of even more impressive proportions. This is achieved at a nano-scale, by means of a dense laser beam of sorts.
I have observed reports about initiatives of databases and storage-redundancies on- and off-planet; not only of stories and information but also of flora’s “story” in the form of seed banks. Who’s and what will (not) be stored?
I have heard of research towards brain implants aimed at increasing memory capacities within an individual
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I have seen initiatives where common individuals can record their common stories of a lifetime for themselves and with others to enjoy and be touched by: a mother about her son; a person about a lost love; that common story that makes us daringly, beautifully and yet frailly human in-between one another.
I also encountered questions of the “right to be forgotten”. In extension to that, it has been said that for instance on LinkedIn an increasing percentage of profiles are of deceased individuals and that in a not too long a near future that can easily reach up to 20% (I will want to verify this). I am equally thrilled about this in associated with the sensation of the echoes of humanity as portrayed in the opening paragraph. Why should one or more of one’s story (not) be stored?
This then in turn entangles with concepts of “privacy”, “freedom of speech”, “secrecy”, “intimacy”, “trust”, “ownership of information”, “the right to perform or distribute”, and many more. Does storage dismiss the story thought or the story hushedly stumbled and stuttered in private settings of the fleeing moment and among those who are trusted? Is there your poetry in the ephemeral, the passing?
I also hear about some who ponder whether or not more and faster (information) is unequivocally better.
Either way, I distill a tautology: we are story keepers, story tellers and maybe more so, story hackers; irrespective of whether we like, want or agree with their content or not. That brings us to meaning-giving, meaning-taking and meaning-maintaining or meaning-alteration.
I wonder, …
I wonder, besides one’s intentions with a story and those intentions being different from the perceptions of a story –which in turn can be seen as an example of the process of “meaning-alterations”– is wanting to be forgotten the ultimate alteration of meaning? Has intention the upper-hand to perception? Has one infinite ownership over one’s story? Could one, should one and how could one ensure the intended meaning of a story over time? Is this the human tragedy or playful dance between the individual and the collective as portrayed in stories over space and time and imagination (i.e. meaning-alteration; since perception is the processing of a story through filters such as one’s imagination)? [if you are wondering how I am making these statements and assumptions as to how someone might process a story: while anecdotal, last I checked I am human and I process stories through imagination and other cognitive mechanisms].
This post will function as a repository of these and associated initiatives or considerations by others. If I find them I will post URLs here.
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--animasuri'19; on a sunny and windy winter morning in Beijing; in his CEEIA office, room 304, off of Xueyuan Nan Lu on the peripheries of Beijing Normal University campus, while listening to Ana Vidovic's renditions of Piazzolla pieces.
I am a stay-home dad who goes to work to make ends meet.
I am in my office from about 7AM until about 6:45PM.
I am alone in that office. The times I speak are when I say good morning to that reoccurring individual around the water-filter; you know, the office-dweller’s version of an elephant’s drinking hole in the Savannah. The water-filter dispenser is way down the hall, strategically positioned, right outside the toilets.
The solitude allows me to imagine exercising a yoga pose on the yoga mat that is collecting dust in the corner of my office.
The sounds of air-conditioners are at times surprisingly interrupted by a honking horn entering the room through the open window or by the sound of a paper shredder or maybe a receipt printer down that same window-less hall.
I don’t do lunch. Previously, I would have an 8-minute salad and at times indulged in finishing an 18-minute TEDtalk during and beyond my time of eating. At times I would enrich my food intake experience with a good half a liter of water-diluted protein powder. I don’t do that anymore.
I wake up at 3:30AM and go to sleep at about 10PM. Nights are interrupted by children or pets alike.
In weekends I stay home. I don’t engage in number painting yet. I study Spanish instead, via a little APP on my phone. I have my home , in an apartment building, during the weekends and some moments in the morning and evenings, in the glorious land of China.
To get those weekends at home, I negotiate uninterruptedly and really hard with my superior, the owner of the company. It made me labeled as not caring enough about the company. After all, the company is not covering my social insurance, pension nor other basics. No, I don’t feel disgruntled. I have no right to feel so, pampered as I am. As a creative entrepreneurial-spirit in disguise, I am after all a stay-home dad in an exotic far-far-away land.
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Content, I am.
No, I don’t need all of the perks, taps on the back or other professional acknowledgements. Yet, I do need my weekends to do the laundry and other chores and, yes, watch the kids. In the weekends my life partner is off working. She also takes on the week for work and for covering each and every evening, with the boys and their homework routine. I love the boys. I love my life partner. What more should one want?
Staying home, being a stay-home dad, allows me to pretend to be taking care of the family while reoccurringly contemplating the 15 minute weekly meeting on Mondays. I do enjoy these meetings at our headquarters, a two or so hours away by subway. Following the meeting I am thrilled journeying back to my office space.
I used to really enjoy spending about 5 hours every Monday on the subway. I am rich with imagination during and outside those rides.
The thought of these rides still echoes the memory of the annual holidays my children and wife do have, and the duration of their flight to Europe. I have been told that those flights are only slightly longer in duration than my ride on the subway.
I used to take that ride daily. Now only on Mondays. Now I spend a large sum of money on a taxi ride to get there. I do get there, I arrive before any one else does or any other car clogs up the roads. In this way I get there, to my beloved team, much faster. Now it increases my carbon footprint, except when I enjoy the thrill of being in an electric taxi! Oh, the excitements of being who I am and doing what I do. I am going places!
It’s all about being a modern and caring man; a stay-home dad, with office benefits.
Learning and using multiple languages enables one to play in-between the languages. Since I believe (and I am not alone) that languages exist intertwined with cultures, one is hence also playing in-between cultures; perhaps unwittingly so.
This in-between interaction enables (at least me and, as I observe, also some others) a form of playful language (usage and construction) that can only exist and be understood by those enabled to be moving in-between them.
At least metaphorically (but I sense this is very practical or pragmatic as well), this is allowing the player to stand on the proverbial door sill. This is in turn allowing the player (limited in this writing here by the highly constraining, linear nature of language constructs, such as sentences in paragraphs) to be looking, at least, at the one language usage on one side and at the other on the other side (if applying the play between two languages only, while multiple language usage is plausible as well). The player then can be “tasting” (and, simultaneously, be creating ) the linguistic mixture, as an observer and producer. The player can do so in-between two or more languages.
This awareness is not particularly new nor is it unique.
For instance, in China’s broadcasts, of its voice radio performance art, one can, at times, listen to wordsmiths playing in-between English and Chinese. For instance, they might use an English word or two that sound like a very different Chinese word. Though, the audience or creators might be “limited” to Mandarin and some basic English, nevertheless, it is just that: a creative fluidity in-between languages (for the moment ignoring the motivation or the perception thereof, in this particular reference).
An example between Dutch and Chinese could be this: “poesje“, which is Dutch for “small cat“. It sounds, via slight shifts in the Dutch pronunciation, as /bu-shi/ , which could, besides conjuring a rude English wording, also be shifted into the Chinese “bù shì” (不是). These two Chinese characters stand for “not” and “is“, or slightly more freely translated, as “not yes“. In turn this could be used to mean something as “not“, “no“, “it isn’t“…
If “bù shìpoesje” then what is it?
I sense one can see this activity as an analogy of potential processes and actual evolution in any creation or (in-between) any framework. One might perceive these as experiments of shifts and “perversions” (depending on one’s “political” stance) into innovations or into new and different languages or into potentially new meaning-giving. This could occur, at least, at the level of the individual or in-between a few initiated individuals. This movement could transcode from the absurd into the formal and vice versa.
Is this a movement similar to that one person’s crazy idea that can only become accepted if a second person endorses it (preferably a second person otherwise unassociated with the first person) and then becomes a movement by the undefined masses following it? I now see a thought turned into a (set of meaning-imbued) word(s), turned into a culture.
As a sidenote:
"Framework" here is meant as a collection of thought creations (e.g. a connection of associated concepts).
For instance, I, as one individual, over my life span, have cognitively collected a number of frameworks. Such Frameworks, I sense, are semiotic and thus have linguistic or meaning-giving features. I perceive them as being cultural in nature.
I feel these, to me, do not simply have to consist of isolated memorized words. I imagine these might consist of unclear networks of not well-defined emotions, blurry definitions, attached to opaque images, other words and fading experiences. In turn these interconnected meaning-giving items are vaguely set into complexes of intuitions.
I feel, for me, these sets form an undefined number of frameworks in my mind. Some seem fluid and temporary while others seem more stubborn and fixated. While some frameworks feel as if overlapping, others are contradictory to one another, adjacent or seemingly entirely unrelated, except then by one attribute: they are my metaphorical constructs in my brain.
I use these frameworks as references to make sense of the world around me; ever so transiently. I also explore the spaces in-between frameworks.
One such framework is my vague and abstract conception of one language; let's say English. Another framework could be another language.
Such a framework could also be my adoption and adaptation of a set of believes one, and one's community, holds or a set of habits, or attributes recognized as memes of one human collective (e.g. a community or a set of ideas held in one's brain), etc. For instance: the Flemish, the Beijingers, the Belgians, the Europeans, The Han, The Asians, The people on the subway, the people in the building I work or those where I live, The people in a news clip, etc.; a set of cultural frameworks.
As another example, a framework I hold could also be built around the concept of "data" or a specific set of data. For instance: the number of people who suffered fatal or other injuries, say, due to road vehicles, let's say in the USA from one specific year to another.
I imagine this in-between play as potentially being an example (with practical implications) of Deleuze’s territorialization, de-territorialization and re-territorialization. Therefor the in-between is always a becoming rather than a being. I also see it as a possible candidate example of fluidity, and of inherent changes that occur beyond one or two or more fixed frameworks one might hold on to (e.g. the use and learning of one language only).
I sense this in-between activity, its existence, the existence of the potential links, the existence of the potential shifts in meaning and usage, are a collection of human output (somewhere floating between being willingly or being serendipitously expressed) which are too often ignored, and I dare state, which might have non-party political consequences.
As a second sidenote:
"Political" here is meant as how we act as citizens among each other within the "polis"; i.e. the city of our daily activities and power-relations.
I sense these in-between expressions might highlight or unveil or at least create imaginations about power-relations and the shift thereof across languages.
I admit, they make me, rather then perhaps you, think about this. Granted, possibly this tells me more about my own obsessions with power-relations rather than it stating anything substantial or corroborative about what I think to perceive.
That stated, please let us continue to allow the process of potential discovery by means of initially unsubstantiated imagination and naive wonder.
Yes, for the moment I opt to sense that one can best achieve this exploration (either in daily personal experiences and poetics, or as a stepping stone towards rigorous analysis) with and in-between any number of languages and any number of other languages and dialects (yes, dialects, since some claim that “language” is a dialect “with an army”…) .
The experience of an (intangible) in-between space has been on my mind for as long as I remember. Especially the etymology as observable in-between two distinct official languages yet, with some degree of common ancestry.
For instance, the present-day English word ” mascot” or “mascotte” (in Dutch) compared to the Spanish word “mascota“. The latter means “pet” (English) or “huisdier” (Dutch), which again translated to English might make for a (to me) fun new word: “house-animal“…
In a moment of associated digression: Is a couch potato a species of “house-animal“? …
Coming back to the main storyline: one touches on the semantic realm of “talisman” (i.e. “mascot” & “mascotte“) while the other touches on the realm of companionship for a human and this of an animal, other than human (yes, imagine…), for instance, a dog or a tarantula (i.e. “mascota“) .
If we were to dig a bit deeper we could argue that both (“mascotte” and “mascota“) are about companionship yet the intuitively comparable power-relation might be different, or is it?
I am excitingly concerned about how one could achieve this comparison in a quantitative manner, besides my often-faulty yet beloved intuition, which I am presently applying. I also wonder, in a dance with an old polemic, whether we, as humans, should only value the quantitative (notice, please, my stress on ‘only’). For sure, this entire in-between language is not quantatative in nature; it’s pure nurture coming naturally to me. (I hope you can read the serious irony here).
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Coming back to the in-between language play: the word “mascot” can semantically and denotatively (i.e. as being, “in accordance with fact or the primary meaning of a term“) be mapped with the word “talisman” which, in turn, can be mapped with words such as the nouns “charm” or “amulet“.
Some claim that a “mascota” has a “master” (…you still don’t see power-play at play? Think about the use of “pet” in relation to excessive loyalty of an employee to a superior); does a mascot have a master?
In some storytelling I have noticed that some iteration playing with the concept of the talisman also links the mascot to a master, as a pet is to one.
One can see the animation series, based on a game, entitled “Wakfu” for such narrative . In it the character named “Sir Percedal of Sadlygrove” is emboldened by his powerful luck-bringing sword …and as I notice how a charm or talisman is applied in narratives, these are not always charming nor offering good luck at all times. Yes, as could a cat, a mascot can scratch you the wrong way!
The offered mapping with the word “talisman” and with “Wakfu“, mentioned above, might be acceptable if one could allow for an imaginary and literary “good” demon-possessed item to be seen as a “talisman” or as a bringer-of-luck, does then my pet give me extra power?
Some teams do have, for instance, a living pet dog as a mascot. Moreover, and ever so slightly in dissonance, notice that etymologically, the word mascot is claimed to have associations with “witch”, “wizard”, “nightmare”, “mask” and “black”). Are my pets not what they seems to be?
While in “actual” life, I have heard of, someone carrying a plastic chain-restaurant’s spoon to a sports match, believing it allows their favorite team to win, in Wakfu it is, for instance, a consciously possessed sword.
This is obviously fantasy narrative –I mean, Wakfu. Yes, one might consider the above-mentioned spoon equally fantastical. Yet, this latter reference is a factual example. This is while perhaps one might feel more accepting towards a scarf or a never-washed t-shirt instead of a spoon.
By the way, in the spirit of this text, you might like to know that in Wakfu, these demons which posses linearly-practical objects, turning the items into charms of sorts, are called “shushu(s)”. Interestingly–talking about in-between languages– “Shūshu” ( 叔叔),in Chinese, means “uncle“. Besides the obvious family-relation, it is also used as a name of endearment–yes! that’s a “pet name” for ye– to refer to older male individuals who are not actually related by blood. For instance, my children refer to their Chinese school bus driver as Shūshu. Is this now a magic school bus? Perhaps, in a sense, in Wakfu, this is a sword, giving its adventurous user extra power. In effect, this Sir Percedal character, who wields such powerful sword, might have a relationship with this magical sword as if one has a relationship with a pet. The character is at times rather literally defined by the sword, as a sports team is unitingly defined by its mascot. Perhaps as this is as much as a master is defined by their pet and their pet by them (…it is said that the bacteria in one’s body are defined by the kind of pet one nurtures).
Is this where “mascotte” and “mascota” meet?
…maybe not, maybe the perceived link between “mascot” and “mascota” is entirely serendipitous. Or, maybe one can judge it as a negative form of cultural appropriation; but then, which culture is appropriating which (a topic that could use a posting of its own)? Maybe, in similarity with “salary” and “celery” which are sounding rather similar yet, one being healthier and the other being more or less edible (or something of the sort), such serendipity could be sufficient. In truth, I admit, the second meaning of the Spanish word “mascota” is indeed ” the animal that represents a team.” What then are the links between a pet and a mascot?
Do I believe in mascots as being like a talisman;.. I personally do not; it’s too irrational for my taste. However, I know many out there (e.g. in sports or in brand loyalty) who do. In human (pre)history we can surely uncover this strong and deep-seated conviction (e.g. in Shamanism, in the wearing of a powerful animal’ skin or skeletal parts, etc.). Is it in Shamanism where we could unveil the cross-over between talisman, mascot and pet? One might have heard of animal spirits… Is this where the Pharaohs and their cats lived in-between the world of the “pet” and the world of the “mascota”? Is the trans-language activity allowing us to, more or less easily, shift in-between more than just a linear translation?
The relationship and experiences I sense which I could have with a “mascotte” versus that of a “mascota“, versus that of a “pet“, are very different. While arguably “mascota” and “pet” are the “same”, I can guarantee you: I do not perceive them as the same; not at all (besides the rational yet reductionist knowledge they are “translatables” between English and Spanish). I could elaborate yet the feelings are still conflicting and chaotically intertwined as the yarn my cat-companions got their paws on during their not-so-quiet midnight hours.
As a third sidenote:
I am learning Spanish. The arguments as to why I am can be covered in another posting.
However, this exploration of the in-between aids me to stoke the fire of increased willingness to continue my studies. It also aids me to look deeper and see hints of associations between words, beyond one language alone (...there are links between pets and mascots).
It allows me to slowly but surely unveil my blindness into other languages and areas: Italian: mascotte; Portuguese: mascote; Spanish: mascota; and to me excitingly surprising even Polish: maskotka.
I imagine that the act of this inter-language play, functions as an object of my imaginary making. I imagine it as my personal talisman. As much as the meaning of "talisman" is that of being an object that completes another object, the linguistic inter-play completes a passion for learning via the ritual of the creative act. The in-between language play increases a sense of playful power, energy (rejuvenation of learning), and perhaps other learning benefits.
Additional reasoning as to why this works for me could be yet another posting.
Another example is the Spanish word “negocio“, which seems to mean “business“. Following, I believe I can claim that “Su negocio” means “(their/her/…) your business” as in, for instance, “their shop“. In English a seemingly similar word exists, “negotiation“. Sure, for both we can follow the thread back to the common source in Latin: negotiari (“to carry on business”), from negotium (“business”).
Nevertheless, one word, the English word “business“, feels –that is, as in the initial moment of my sensation of perceiving some meaning– as it connotes (to me, at least) a fixed point, a done deal. The other, the Spanish word “negocio”, when overshadowed with the English word “negotiation”, superficially connotes (to me) a process; not a done deal. This is all the while, contradictory, the Spanish word in isolation away from the English, could feel to me as referring to someone’s shop, someone’s business; a fixed location. I am confident, as time and thinking passes by, that my sensations might change.
Consecutively and for now, I continue to wonder whether in one or versus a combinatorial language-usage, the business owner might experience to be more confronted with the constant uninterrupted negotiations it takes to maintain a business in relation to many an intrinsic and extrinsic force, support, constraint, potential or many a stakeholder. On the other hand, this is all the while in the other language one (me) might more easily go with an assumption where, following a negotiation, one is “in business“. This feels perhaps as if arrived at a specific point of an almost unquestioned doing and being “in business”. Is one more or less delusional / irrational then the other? Does one lead to more or less entrepreneurial dare and risk taking than the other? I imagine yet, I cannot (yet) know. I do question whether anyone has done any research on differences in perceptions and consequential (in)action compared between (multi-)language groups?
I am noticing some writing, in various media outlets, and in a number of fields (e.g. in topics covering psychology, business, well-being, ethics, leadership, etc) that do mention the effect and affect of language usage on the well-being of one’s self and in-between oneself and others. The co-creation of the poetic experience with real-life consequences is exciting to me, to say the least.
In any case, I have been using this in-between language learning and expression for many years now. I also use it with friends across cultures (e.g. my Chinese friends) . This play seems to be universally sensed. At the least, pragmatically, it has helped to strengthen social bonds through playfulness.
Epilogue: My two cats are wonderful pets and this while they do scratch and destroy, as two little demons of the night. Look at their picture, heading this text! However cute, as far as them being charms or talismans, I am not yet convinced. In retrospect, instead of having named them Luna and Molly I could have named one Charm and the other Mascota... oh well...
This is a fluid post, it is unfinished thus unhinged. Any of its distribution is an allegorical alliteration; but of what? It is private yet exposed. It playfully alludes to be looking into itself; lusus est.
It is a positive feedback loop of self-amplifying ego-eroticism. It is a stream of consciousness, in-between sense and non-sense. I have the intentionally random to thank for it. This writing, this post, is for the moment, intentionally, at the threshold of the understandable.
On this page I will poetically muse about the “in-between“. In other locations I touch on the “in-between” as well. Here I will play with the in-between, in-between graphic and textual narration. I will move in-between graphemes, glyphs and graphics.
The in-between is a space; always. It is neither positive nor negative space; always. It is and it isn’t the one nor the other; always. It sounds totalitarian yet, it is only becoming (nothing). It is prototypical, neither here nor there. Though the here nor the there can exist without it. It is metaphysical yet pragmatically utilitarian.
It is the cultural clash and gateway. It is the belonging just not yet. It is leisurely timely in tension with the imposing. It liberates with a goodbye under-toned with fear, dismissal or with the imagination of acceptance while being away.
The in-between is not nothing and yet it is (not)
無
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无
不
this little person is not looking at the sky, it’s metaphysically standing in-between the soil and the ether. It’s not a person it’s a defamiliarlized red haring, painted black. Its name is MacGuffin.
non-sense, pure unadulterated sensible non-sense as an in-between space between the real, the imagined, the surreal, the past and the future; neither now nor here.
This non-spatial space, as an interstate between what is understood [home] and what is to become [xeno] must be vehemently opposed and attacked by those who:
stick to it,
stand their ground
and define,
unequivocally claimed the territory;
unwavering, purely are here:
signed, demarcated, and walled-off.
update:
recently a dear friend shared some interesting resource on MA
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A highlight from the text:
“… In Asian painting (i.e. Chinese, Japanese, etc.) you might know this as what, at least the Japanese define as Ma (間); it is a term I found in Japanese (art) but I imagine it must also exist as a Chinese concept (i.e. see Lao Zi).
It is that what takes place in the consciousness of someone who experiences negative and positive spaces. I take this as a transitional mechanism towards what I define as ‘conscious space’.
We glide from positive space into negative space into conscious space; we have the opportunity to end up mixing them together into a complex yet knowledge-gathering experience.
The Chinese philosopher Lao zi wrote extensively on the concept of ‘Ma’. Here is one of his writings that is applicable:
Thirty spokes meet in the hub,
but the empty space between them
is the essence of the wheel.
Pots are formed from clay,
but the empty space between it
is the essence of the pot.
Walls with windows and doors form the house,
but the empty space within it
is the essence of the house.
…”
UPDATE:
recently a dear friend shared some interesting resource on MA
“just as places are sensed, senses are placed” —maurice merleau-ponty
What will I hear, traveling… –interstellar?
What will I hear having traveled into a dome– inside a biosphere– on the Moon or on Mars’ surface? Voices, whispered and reflected on the curvatures of that transparent hard-surface dome, lacking depth of sound variations; …as a far, waving cry of that of a “whisper wall” in Beijing or Boston, set amidst the sounds of an urban life?
What will I aurally pick up and recompose, while rushing through space, in a high-tech tube, looking out onto a darkness filled with specs of light? Humming? Rattling? Churning? A beeping of a quantum pocket computer?
There, in my imagination, with these mechanical sounds I could then collage a memory of childhood and home: my mother and father working in the garden, cutting wood, polishing surfaces to be re-varnished, setting a table, washing up, cutting the lawn, trimming the bushes. The smell of grass and of honey after a trim, after the rain; associated with some sound. (But… what of children, or simply self-centered, a new self, born, there, beside me?)
Differences, minute, yet important, in stimulating the emotional re-localization of self, teleported & time-traveled through space and time; while psychologically and imaginary being in-between worlds and in-between folds of time and its spaces. (But… what of those who know no other; …they who were pinged into existence then and there?)
What if Michael Southworth’s, Raymond Murray Schafer‘s, Pierre Henri Marie Schaeffer’s and a number of composers, collectors, observers and scholars in the study of soundbites, musique concrète and soundscapes would be collected and applied in growing a database of soundbites unique to individuals, communities, a city, a particular spot or to the entire humming of the Earth? (But… what of a soundscape crunched from the mathematical silence of an empty memory bank and a whirling fan?)
What if this would form the input to neural networks, an AI, also tuned into the sensory data coming from my being, and my becoming in space at that time and within that transitional and transient state of emotional change? Do or did these fellow humans, some mentioned here above, think beyond their here and now, into spaces lacking in sound wave propagation? (But… what of its own numerical sound: its sonic solid dream-state iterations, recursions and convolutions?)
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I jump through time.
A few years back I aided in a project by a Belgian composer-mathematician, and founder of Tamuraj Office and his EmoSynth, doing something similar. He and his team were creating a real-time artwork of sound and visuals based or opposed to the bio-sensory data collected in real-time from a participant. It did not use AI then, or so I remember. It was not geared to enter into this bigger space, yet. It did plant a seed, in my imagination.
Even earlier, as a tween, linking with associated sounds, though associated in reverse: I remember playing vinyl records of a composer who transcoded planetary data into sound and soundscapes. Sounds unheard made perceivable of and by the universe itself. I can’t remember the composer’s name… sounds and names lost yet, still “unsoundingly” vibrating in my memory as a silenced echo.
Not too long ago I heard the bouncing of two Black Holes: plops or drops; exciting. The universe speaks, I want it to space me a design of sound.
I rush through space.
I, just now, closed my eyes and heard the mechanics of machines –a saw? a polisher? a sander?
…a drill? a hammer? A tool as space and time. Can you hear a voice reading?
These were presented to me while the sun was painting the insides of my eyelids with reds, oranges, yellows and whites. I also heard the chirping of crickets or both crickets and machinery mixed together, with the almost randomly-placed honking of a car horn in the artificially-spaced far distance. It then was giving way to a sea of silence and a repetitive short tweeting of a bird passing.
This mix transported me into the what-if space of human interstellar travel and colonization. It placed me into artificial space; as space as a hypothetical scenario. I took some time there.
There in this amalgamation of spaces, times of memory, it was creating a sonic sense of belonging. These remind me of a childhood home, of my mother, my father and yet these are sounds I factually observed in the middle of Beijing, P.R. China at about 8 in the morning from my office window: open, sending, receiving, displacing, recomposing, denouement, home. Factual space and time and associations and emotions are fluid, detachable, re-composable, re-combinable modules.
Some questions of challenge and doubt, leading to potentials of rejuvenating innovations might bubble up: Listen, is this the artificial intelligent world of my fellow humans engulfing the tweets (…of a bird)? How will we make inter-stellar space, a place filled with a sense of belonging? A space as a question of being and not-being; of potentially becoming: that is the quantum logic. It is violent yet absent; it is vast yet potential; if we can’t do it here and now for others around us, how can we do it then and there? This is not a defeat, it is an excitement to trial and error through unsound and sound thought.
nor solitude in togetherness or loneliness among the masses;
do not fear no
nor yes,
nor maybe and perhaps;
do not fear smile,
tear
nor anger and resolve;
do not fear negative,
nor positive
nor neutral ever so fleeing;
do not fear the temporarily universal
nor the universally temporal;
do not fear the constant,
the habit,
the ritual;
do not fear the chaos,
the serendipitous,
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the chance;
do not fear here,
or the there
nor the there coming here;
do not fear yourself,
not that other you
nor that transitional you;
do not fear the known,
the unknown,
nor the instability of it all;
do not fear the existent,
the nascent ,
nor the absent;
do not fear love’s opposition,
the bias
nor polarity;
do not fear dimensionality,
the continuum,
the change or fluidity;
do not fear the paradox,
the human, that animal becoming human,
yet remaining;
do not fear that what is not written here;
Come to think of it, in seeming contradiction: do not fear fear.
—animasuri’19
Beijing, China
this poem was positively & in kindness catalyzed by this LinkedIn post. Thank you, Mr. Athope