pure spirits can penetrate anybody at will.
from Eva Is Inside Her Cat by Gabriel Garcia Marquez
pure spirits can penetrate anybody at will.
from Eva Is Inside Her Cat by Gabriel Garcia Marquez
the idea of living in constant surprise, almost totally in the unexpected.
p. 48 on music
the metaphysical prologue which refutes space time
conscious post-existence=personal eternity p. 189
the only mystic state is not religious, it’s Passion p. 192
Eterna: she’s the maximum intensity of consciousness p. 200
the conscious effect that this novelism seeks is to delineate in the mind of the reader the mere conscious being, without a world, as an intelligible possibility. (psychic individual sans cosmos) p. 198
night is the beauty in which it pleased you to dress yesterday. p.211
and you are the Night, as severe of aspect as your heart is lush with fervent invention. p. 212
p. 220 Live, character!
backs, which are the curves of a Deathless pain, fade away in the distance. p. 236
(final sentence) he who imagines will never know non-being. p. 238
The Museum of Eterna’s Novel, Macedonio Fernandez
(of chaos) It can be Nothing or a dormant Something, death or birth, according to the dominance of will or lack of will, of willing or not-willing. note grey-a point btwn dimensions=nondimensional p. 3
a concept is not thinkable without its opposite p. 15 (see jung notes on enantiodromia)
the universal cause is reciprocal tension, a pull in two directions at once. p. 32
3 phantom ships p.36 p.40 copy Accident
the artist of today is more than an improved camera; he is more complex, richer, and wider. he is a creature on earth and creature within the whole, that is to say, a creature on a star among stars.
p. 63
for in language there is no way of seeing many dimensions at once. p. 86 (challenge?)
liebermann ‘drawing is the art of omission.’ (as is writing) p. 87
the triangle came into being when a point entered into a relationship of tension with a line and, following the command of its Eros, discharged this tension. the tension between point and line is characteristic of the triangle. p. 113
p. 118 twins 1930 brother and sister
p. 130 little jester in trance 1927
p. 196 tightrope walker 1928
it is a matter of teaching others how to walk along invisible wires, stretched out in darkness, trying to penetrate an unknown dimension. p. 13
giulio carlo argan in preface:
he applied his understanding of growth and motion, won during nature study, to the realm of geometry. he investigated basic forms from the same point of view as plants and living creatures: according to their faculty of motion, kinetic changes, simple forms assume a variety of personalities -for example: ‘the death of the triangle.’ in his thinking geometrical abstraction is humanised. an active exchange goes on between the two fundamental modes of experience, the constructive-geometrical and the metaphysical. ‘the possibilities become numberless and infinitely variable.’ p. 37
death…puts right whatever did not fulfill itself in life. i consider the yearning for death not as a renunciation but as a struggle for perfection. p.41
i repeat this line to myself like a mantra when i feel my resolve weakening. i will fight that narrowing down forever if i can.
(religion) not merely the opium of the masses, it is the cyanide.
politics is the science of domination (walls of the fish tanks constructed of ignorance and superstition, held together with fear) once religion became political, the exercise of it could be said to lead sooner or later to war (logical extension of politics is war)
religion=institutionalized mysticism
the catch is mysticism does not lend itself to institutionalization. The moment we attempt to organize mysticism, we destroy its essence. religion, then, is mysticism in which the mystical has been killed.
religion=divisive, oppressive, denial of all that is divine in people; suffocation of the soul
consensual reality-makes the world seem larger yet simultaneously more private (eye game)
pious dogma, if allowed to flourish, will always drive magic away.
religion is an improper response to the Divine
the dead are laughing at us.
this is the room of the wolfmother wallpaper. this is the room where the boys slept inside their blowguns to avoid being bitten by the bats, for whom the girls sewed tiny velvet suits.
and, my favorite: We must cultivate beauty or risk not being able to recognize ugliness.
i guess i’m mostly melancholy phlegm.
reading the infinite jest (source of said lyrics); when i am done it better be fucking warm out.