I always start these blogs off with an older post just to get them up and going. Oddly enough, the first post is like getting out of bed... the rest of the day depends on it.
I have a blog at panistoria.com... The Golden Mirror... so why not a reading from that to start us off in the right direction... is it poetry? is it rambling? Or is it simply ideas worth thinking about?
from The Golden Mirror 10-02-08
thoughts from the green chair
Some nights, like tonight or maybe last night, I sit back and consider just how quiet it can get… the silence when the world for the most part goes to sleep and romps about in dreamland while a few remain conscious. It is a good time to contemplate for me… to consider the aspects and views which I bring to my real life, my computer life, and the life that lies in the between… time to sit curled up and wonder… where, in the grand scheme of things am I?
The machine sits idle… waiting for the input that will bring meaning out of the blankness… an act of creation… to bring form… scenery… context… where does this path lead? Who are the people who populate this existence? Where are they headed, and from which direction do they come and intersect with me… what do I impart to them in their passing… and what do they impart to me?
There are people who with a few brief words dramatically alter my perception… they illuminate and make clear what hitherto had been a blur… they bring a focus upon which I must ponder. Is this spirituality? Self-awareness?
So many questions…
Some nights, like tonight, I feel a sense of aloneness… difference… distance. The skin becomes a barrier denying access to the inner workings, the eyes become a periscope to see, but not to take a part in… to drift in the depths of the self separate… enclosed and apart… sealed off. Where does this division come from? Does it well up from within or is it an exterior occurrence like the rain or snow? Was Donne incorrect? Is the truth that we all are islands, each separate and alone?
Through the silence and absence of the light the mind is freed and released to roam unfettered… unbound… into the journey with the preconceived external inputs stripped away… the path laid bare and raw… waiting for the thunder of the footsteps of progression… trespass and transgression… in motion we sacrifice the inert…
Some nights, like tonight or maybe last night, I sit back and consider just how quiet it can get… the silence when the world for the most part goes to sleep and romps about in dreamland… time to sit curled up and wonder… where, in the grand scheme of things am I?
I have a blog at panistoria.com... The Golden Mirror... so why not a reading from that to start us off in the right direction... is it poetry? is it rambling? Or is it simply ideas worth thinking about?
from The Golden Mirror 10-02-08
thoughts from the green chair
Some nights, like tonight or maybe last night, I sit back and consider just how quiet it can get… the silence when the world for the most part goes to sleep and romps about in dreamland while a few remain conscious. It is a good time to contemplate for me… to consider the aspects and views which I bring to my real life, my computer life, and the life that lies in the between… time to sit curled up and wonder… where, in the grand scheme of things am I?
The machine sits idle… waiting for the input that will bring meaning out of the blankness… an act of creation… to bring form… scenery… context… where does this path lead? Who are the people who populate this existence? Where are they headed, and from which direction do they come and intersect with me… what do I impart to them in their passing… and what do they impart to me?
There are people who with a few brief words dramatically alter my perception… they illuminate and make clear what hitherto had been a blur… they bring a focus upon which I must ponder. Is this spirituality? Self-awareness?
So many questions…
Some nights, like tonight, I feel a sense of aloneness… difference… distance. The skin becomes a barrier denying access to the inner workings, the eyes become a periscope to see, but not to take a part in… to drift in the depths of the self separate… enclosed and apart… sealed off. Where does this division come from? Does it well up from within or is it an exterior occurrence like the rain or snow? Was Donne incorrect? Is the truth that we all are islands, each separate and alone?
Through the silence and absence of the light the mind is freed and released to roam unfettered… unbound… into the journey with the preconceived external inputs stripped away… the path laid bare and raw… waiting for the thunder of the footsteps of progression… trespass and transgression… in motion we sacrifice the inert…
Some nights, like tonight or maybe last night, I sit back and consider just how quiet it can get… the silence when the world for the most part goes to sleep and romps about in dreamland… time to sit curled up and wonder… where, in the grand scheme of things am I?
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