Tag Archives: painting

Unintelligent Design

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I’ve been reading a lot, lately, about Evolution and it appears he’s pretty stupid. Well, maybe non-thinking would be a fairer assessment.

Although he’s very good at upgrading life forms to better suit their various environments and predicaments, it takes him an awfully long time to do it. Some philosophers suggest he doesn’t even know what he’s doing, he’s absolutely ignorant, and his competence is without comprehension.

I guess, for Evolution, it’s just a matter of trying out possibilities until one stands out and considering there is an enormous number of possibilities and he isn’t thinking about discriminating the process is bound to proceed at a snail’s pace.

I’ve been thinking about what sort of changes Evolution might have in store for humankind in the future. I’m thinking hair is pretty superfluous (a lot of people seem to be realizing this and removing it themselves) and eventually Evolution will probably send it the way of the tail. The appendix should probably go as well. On the positive side, anticipating survival, some sort of built-in air filtering apparatus to aid breath-ability might be in order. And maybe a move toward the bovine stomach to increase potential edibles in a foresee-ably depleted eco-system.

I’m sure Evolution’s working on these things but given his mindless process I don’t expect much anytime soon.

visibleman

Seeking God-Reflexive Spirituality

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I’ve been thinking that it’s pretty reasonable to assume god, spirit, soul are non-material entities and since modern science acknowledges an inability to deal with the non-material, empirical knowledge of god is pretty much out of the question. How, after all, can one know for certain without empirical evidence (assuming we can know anything for certain at all)?
But, given the non-causal synchronicities that appear to exist in the quantum universe, who knows what non-material entities may be floating around out there. It seems to me even modern science leaves the door open, maybe even anticipates a glimpse of the ineffable. There’s no specific knowledge as to what the Other might be but I think that whatever it is it must be that which we require to sustain our enthusiasm for existence; that which necessarily is definable by each of us in terms of however or whatever we view the mystery of existence to be.
While dwelling on this recently the concept of Reflexive Spirituality came to my attention. The basic tenets of this, I guess one would call it a discipline, are: metaphorical interpretations of traditional scriptures, a strong pluralistic attitude regarding religious beliefs and an ongoing critical inquiry into religious meanings such as the makeup and nature of God.
I know it all sounds a bit ‘new agie’ but while I’ve never been able to fit myself within any set of formal religious labels, I think reflexive spiritualist may just be what I am.
I trust this realization doesn’t mean I need to join a group or anything. Surrounding one’s self with like- minds I guess can be comforting to some but joining really seems to me to be counter-productive when my motive is seeking personal enlightenment. Group think, dealing with diverse personalities and the inevitable politics would interfere with the primary intention.
From a distance, though, I do like the concept of reflexive spirituality. Embracing the spiritual in whatever form it takes, wherever, whenever, however I’m moved whether it be viewing a Kandinsky painting, celebrating a Hindu festival of lights, meditating beside a mountain stream or …………..
I don’t think anyone really knows when or what it will take for that non-material essence we may call God to make an appearance. I guess I’ll just maintain a positive perspective, avoid distraction and stay alert.

The Sacred and The Profane

The Sacred and The Profane

Seeking God-The presuppositional Apologist

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I got to talking to a presuppositional apologist the other day. He assured me everyone knows God exists whether they realize it or not, God being the source of all our knowledge.
I told him that I was presently seeking God and had a number of good candidates but wasn’t absolutely sure I had found the right one and was really questioning the idea of an entity with all the omni’s in tow.

He said that since I already knew that the one true God (specifically, the Christian God of the Bible) existed I was just obscuring that realization by pretending to seek; I was suppressing the knowledge of God; I was being unrighteous. He said God was behind my ability to reason and think logically, that there was only one true world view and that was the Christian one and said, once again, that I knew all of this was true.

Not being aware that I knew something of which I was unaware, I told him that now, since he’s explained to me that I do know these things that I didn’t know I knew that perhaps there were other things I knew that I didn’t know I knew. And, supposing these things to be outside of the empirical realm, maybe I knew when I felt particularly safe and secure that there were invisible protector beings keeping me safe or that my dreams weren’t just dreams but were a parallel reality visited in my sleep or, maybe, I didn’t know that I knew all along that I am God herself creator and maintainer of my world.

I think the presuppositional apologist thought I was truly an unrighteous individual suppressing the truth that he and I knew it to be and went away believing I was a lost soul. But, I must admit I kind of like the idea of maybe knowing things I don’t know.

billy sunday

Worldview

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I got asked the other day what my worldview was. I was unable to come up with much of an answer. When I thought about the physical universe I couldn’t get past the dilemma modern science seems to be having regarding quantum theories that posit the idea of sub-atomic particles that are nearly unknowable. I mean, really, if the invisible, unknowable is what the universe consists of then what am I to make of reality at all?

It seemed to me the whole idea of a worldview presupposes some sort of underlying order driving the cogs of the universal machine. Like for the religious faithful, who, I think, can come up with a pretty thorough answer fairly quickly.

So, then I got to thinking about the nature of humankind-whether or not there may be some sort of ordered structure controlling the sentient.

I recently saw this movie, Hannah Arendt that dramatizes the philosopher’s acceptance of an offer by The New Yorker magazine, back in the 1960’s, to travel to Jerusalem to view and write about the trial of the notorious Nazi war criminal Adolph Eichmann. As she views the testimony she becomes increasingly convinced that the man was nothing-simply a cog in the totalitarian machine that was Nazi Germany; amoral, lacking in person hood, simply doing what he was ordered to do.

Although an extreme case it seems to me it’s something we all wrestle with. Lacking a mechanism that balances the good of the group, the political, social or religious motives of the institution with the moral and ethical responsibility of the individual, the nature of humankind is as chaotic as the quantum universe.

I can make no more sense of a concept of worldview now than when I was first asked the question.

worldview

Altered States

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I’ve been having these flashes lately of another time and place. Small things: certain smells and sounds, plays of light, will bring to mind thoughts, sometimes remembrances of earlier experiences, sometimes images of times and places I’ve never been.

Most often these ‘flashes of memory’ elicit almost euphoric feelings in me-a sense of idyllic existence, that, when I think about it, are hard to explain. I say most often because sometimes there’s an ominous foreboding which accompanies these forays into the fanciful.

These experiences are like visions into another reality. They occur with varying degrees of strength and fade and disappear fairly quickly.

Now, I’m no scholar mind you but as far as I can tell Martin Heidegger speaks of ‘being’ as a field, an extension of the physical/mental self to include one’s sensible environs. Our extended being can accumulate a lot of the detritus of daily life, an ever increasing weight of familiarity and the efforts and energies required of simply existing. So, by altering one’s being, that is relocating, one becomes new and fresh-at least momentarily.  But, rather than actually physically moving, my mental sojourns into past and fanciful places must serve to offer similar relief.

I’m glad I got this figured out. Now if I can extend these fancies and keep them mostly positive maybe I’ll be content to stay put physically while I travel far and wide mentally. I do know, though, I’ll still need to seek new experiences on occasion.

altered states

Back from the Wilderness

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Having returned from the wilderness without incident I have quickly re assumed my generally distracted existence. While in the wilderness I managed to maintain my eating and sleeping routine almost to the minute. When I think about that I have to admit it seems pretty strange since I obviously had no deadlines to meet, places to be at a certain hour or people to coordinate with. I guess it’s pretty amazing how effectively I’ve been culturally conditioned. It does make me wonder about the nature of free will.

The only tangible remnants of my wilderness experience consist of a few small paintings that are now more real than the rock, water and vegetation they represent. And, as I view them in their balanced, rectangular format it’s clear to me they really haven’t captured the intense sensory experience that inspired them. I guess I’ll keep them anyway for their memory value. When I think about it, maybe there’s no better reason to produce art in the first place.

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Alone in the Wilderness (part 4)

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I’ve been thinking about who would really miss me if I were not to come back from the wilderness. I think there are people who would care but also that there are different degrees of mourning.

For instance you might feel bad at a friend’s disappearance but the loss might be harder to deal with if the deceased were a parent or sibling. If the lost one were a partner or spouse you depended on daily I would guess it may be really hard to take.

I have no spouse or siblings, but I guess there are folks out there who would consider my passing significant.   I don’t anticipate any problems returning from the wilderness provided I keep my canoe upright.  I have no desire to disappear.  The spirit is still willing.

Outside of any eschatological interferences I plan to return.

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Alone in the Wilderness (part 3)

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Another think I miss while alone in the wilderness is distraction. Other than the occasional animal rustling or bird song there are no distractions here. I can’t even get a cell phone signal.

The awareness of not being distracted makes me think I must be distracted a lot usually. I wonder how much of my life I spend distracted.

Which is one reason I didn’t mind falling in the water while trying to get into my canoe so much. It temporarily distracted me. Wilderness is so in your face, so absolute, such stark reality.

So, to deal with stark reality I brought along some distractions in the form of reading material and, obviously, writing pad.

One of the books is Wittgenstein’s Mistress by David Markson. The person telling the story in this book reminds me somewhat of myself. She goes on and on about whatever comes into her head. She tells in the book about having once been mad. I don’t think she ever fully recovered by the end of the book.

I don’t know what that says about me.

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Alone in the Wilderness (part 2)

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I’ve been alone in the wilderness now for more than twenty-four hours. Other than the occasional canoe passing by I’ve seen or talked with no one.

Nothing particularly unusual has happened here other than last evening I fell in the lake trying to get into my canoe. I spent considerable time after that rigging up lines to dry things out which they pretty well were by morning.

So, I was thinking about what I miss being in the wilderness and one of the first things that came to mind is music which when I’m not in the wilderness I am usually listening to or is at least playing in the background.

I find it interesting how some musicians’ names seem to fit their profession so well. Take Esa-Pekka Salonen or Luigi Boccherini or Antonine Dvorak. When I say these names out loud I just want to repeat them over and over because they’re so rhythmic sounding (well, maybe not Antonine Dvorak so much).

The composer I’m thinking of now is Aaron Copeland who I guess doesn’t have a particularly rhythmic sounding name but his music seems to suit the wilderness. It seems to me Appalachian Spring would be really good background music for where I presently am. I’m not in Appalachia and it’s not spring but never the less.

I do know the title of that work really doesn’t refer to the season but rather a water source. I found this out only recently. Even so I still am inclined to think of the season when I hear the piece. Also I think of Jody Foster who sang Simple Gifts in an episode of Kung Fu for David Carradine who played Kwai Chang Caine even though he’s Caucasian.

The movie that I think of when I think of Jody Foster is Taxi Driver with Robert DeNiro. In it she plays an adolescent prostitute.

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Alone in the Wilderness (part 1)

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I’m all alone in the wilderness. At least it’s someplace I would call wilderness. I know for a fact no one lives within miles of here and there aren’t any roads within miles of here either.

That’s not to say there aren’t people around. I saw four people just minutes ago but they aren’t within sight now. For all intents and purposes I’m all alone. At least I have been for the last three hours and seventeen minutes which is how long ago I entered the wilderness.

Right now I’m looking out across a lake.

Although it’s been a couple of minutes since I wrote that last sentence I’m still looking across the same lake in so far as I haven’t moved from the spot I was at when I wrote the last sentence. It’s a beautiful scene; the sun sparkling off of the water, the variety of greens in the trees on the far bank, the multi-colored rock outcroppings reaching down into the dark water. It could be a painting.

Of course I know it couldn’t really be a painting because then what I’d be looking at would be some sort of pigment spread on canvas or paper or something rather than the real water and rocks and trees I’m seeing.

That’s not to say if what I was looking at was a painting that the painting wouldn’t be real. It is real in my imagination in so far as I can imagine this scene as a painting.
So I guess there’s no reason to think that the painting I’m imagining of the scene that I’m looking at is any less real than the water, trees and rocks.

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