Marvelous Works of Unreasonable Beauty

It was the heavy breathing of lovers, in the vials, in the burning

wood and the whispering oils that make the bones glow and flower

in every glance... it was the humming and droning of the voyage.

 

The proposition that there exists a savage view from the balcony upon all that irritates us is, without question, analogous to the “purity” of the explorer who works in obscure light to unveil, not merely the perfect clarity of the psyche’s irresistible and luscious fruit, nor the marvelous androgynous crystal of consciousness, but the ease with which that explorer passes through them.  Without this singular agitation of purity, no such exploration is even remotely possible, without dire or paltry consequenses.

 

The Luminous Field of Perception  

An explication is always called for, but not a conceptual discourse, especially with regard to real objects, real conditions and solutions, and the means of placing them within reach.  A scaffolding is set up around, what might actually be considered as a luminous presence, or predicament.  A reason for engaging in activities that should render superfluous most reasonable modes of perception is replaced by the simple pleasure of it, and an almost prurient interest.  Enter at your own risk, but always be available for exploration, and armed to the teeth with a viable means of escape. Consider being in more than one place, at the same moment, and make every movement count.

There is always the question of whether one has enough transparency to keep ahead of the game, and not get stuck in the shadows… but that is merely to insure a significant balance, and be absolutely aware of it, between what is there (the limb, the starry night) and what is not (phantom limb, or starless night.)   There isn't anything particularly wrong with the shadows, since they do offer an amazing choice of weapons, and is considered the best place to begin.  But it is important to understand that transparency is the desired destination… the vanishing point, or condition of least resistance.

Even the scaffolding has little to offer, unless it has the virtue of not being completely there, yet offering the pure scent of it's presence and only a fleeting glimpse of what might be in the trees.  One can be both prey and predator, and the knowledge of that condition, brings a warm breath to the proceedings… keeps the doors open and the layers of perception acute and guided by those much sought after resonances.  The slow impeccable movements not only conceal, but also attract… and by extension, feed the moth-like magnetism of sheer presence. The scaffolding is only of minor importance in the scheme of things; once implemented, it's major reason for being, as a genetic process, is to propel one as fast as possible toward the target of transparency. There are other ways to get there, and less dangerous, but scaffolding is recommended.

The gist of these preconditions, and therefore, the magic of them, is to become involved in what is completely irrelevant.   Beauty is always unreasonable, and regrettable, and always a deterrent, especially when it is unavoidable. It is a lamentable expedient, but should be avoided at all costs.  When working with fire, the breathing of lovers is used as a psychological tool to overcome both shadows and unreasonable qualities, by allowing the passage through them, at whatever the cost.   One challenges the unreasonable, by becoming unreasonable, and using that as a weapon to disrobe it and caress the black fur of it's deliberate gaze.  This sounds, itself, unreasonable, but is merely a guise.   There are stars in the marrow, and heavenly bodies that light up the shadows. There are presences that touch, when they come to feed, and pass through each other… maiden sparks on the water; a knife still glittering in the wound… A lingering embrace in broad daylight.