Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Saturday, November 17, 2007
clay play
Why must I play? I love finishing pieces. I love seeing something work the way I imagined it. I love the mistakes that teach me and inspire me. I love seeing something beautiful that came from my hands.
Why must I... Clay is a marriage or, rather, a series of functional and disfunctional families. It is the imaginative but it also the practical. Items must have a purpose, even if that purpose is beauty. Clay demands that its subjects be art, even in the most rustic form, yet it is so practical it demands to be useful. It is soft and flexibly, easily moldable yet defies smoothing in its crevicies, bubbles with glaze, shrinks and burns. Clay is the perfect name for child, maliable in youth, fragile in adolescence, set in it's ways as an adult.
And so I too am clay, and hereby melt away.
Why must I... Clay is a marriage or, rather, a series of functional and disfunctional families. It is the imaginative but it also the practical. Items must have a purpose, even if that purpose is beauty. Clay demands that its subjects be art, even in the most rustic form, yet it is so practical it demands to be useful. It is soft and flexibly, easily moldable yet defies smoothing in its crevicies, bubbles with glaze, shrinks and burns. Clay is the perfect name for child, maliable in youth, fragile in adolescence, set in it's ways as an adult.
And so I too am clay, and hereby melt away.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Thursday, November 8, 2007
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Saturday, November 3, 2007
Ceramic Pendants
Blac and red work well. I'm not sure about the glaze combo to the far right... a little muddied, a little pink. The texture black with cracked red and cream on the left seems to work a little better. All red is cool but contrast is soooo important!
Inspired By Him
I like this piece - I'm just not sure it's marketable. I think I'll make a few more in this theme when I get on etsy. If folks like them great, otherwise... well I like them and I can always use more jewelry.
Play Light
I haven't figured out how to photograph my pieces yet. I'm loving the contrast in this piece, with that splash of red. I think this piece sold at one of the home-sales but, would you believe it, I'm not actually sure.
Got in a fight with my man. I pick fights. I feel justified doing it. I'll want to discuss something that's bothering me, I'll try to phrase my argument in a non-acusatory way but I'll offend him anyway. I won't complete my objective for fear of hurting his feelings. Don't get me wrong, the extent of damage an arguement does, the volume of the fight and the value of the discussion varies from man to man. 'A' is great. 'C' was a bastard about things ("it's my way or the highway".... seriously). 'A' isn't quite a push over but I wish he'd stand up for himself by argueing back, not by looking hurt and upset and saying nothing. Still, I bet he wishes I'd quit bringing things up.
Savage Love is probably right... every relationship fails until the one that doesn't. Sometimes that one fails too, I guess.
'Night.
Nicole
Savage Love is probably right... every relationship fails until the one that doesn't. Sometimes that one fails too, I guess.
'Night.
Nicole
Friday, November 2, 2007
Thursday, November 1, 2007
Oh well
You're traveling at great speeds in metal contraptions made by factories who only have your best interest at heart so long as it won't cost them anything. You're interacting with strangers, some inside other metal contraptions, some with no protection of any sort. Why should I have to risk getting hit by a car when I'm going on a walk? Why do you get to put me in harm's way because you insist on doing this ridiculous thing? Why should there be wars over the time it takes you to get to work? Did you know that a well run transit system would cost us all a lot less money? Did you know we could vote to MAKE them develop products that would run this system. They're our government. They belong to us as no human being could ever belong to another. They are honour bound to think of us before themselves and they never do this. The government is an entity designed and obligated to be our slave. It is the only thing in the entire universe so obligated. The government should be the altruism of every person with the single goal of doing what is best for each of us.
You. You are obligated to fight tyranny and corruption. You are obligated to care for the children, the elderly, the troubled, the sick. You. And so it is your obligation, as a citizen of any country, as a citizen of the world, to make your representative, your vote, your government. It is your obligation to support systems critically, thoughtfully, carefully - to choose with your most altruistic self. Open yourself to people from all walks of life, from all sexes, from all cultures, from all beliefs. Make your choices based on your best understanding. Research. Think. Your sources should be many.
You. You are obligated to fight tyranny and corruption. You are obligated to care for the children, the elderly, the troubled, the sick. You. And so it is your obligation, as a citizen of any country, as a citizen of the world, to make your representative, your vote, your government. It is your obligation to support systems critically, thoughtfully, carefully - to choose with your most altruistic self. Open yourself to people from all walks of life, from all sexes, from all cultures, from all beliefs. Make your choices based on your best understanding. Research. Think. Your sources should be many.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Pretty Zombie Colour
It's all oranges and pretty flesh colours. Hey, zombies need to look sexy sometimes too, you know. It's not all about the brain eating like in the movies.
Monday, October 29, 2007
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Coronations Closed
Dear Diary,
I mean... dear blog,
If nobody reads it but you, it's a diary.
Last night was my last night at Coronations. They close tonight and, no doubt, will have plenty of crazy times in the next 24 hours. But last night was my last night and I think I did it right. I hugged everyone. People will chalk it up to drinks, never knowing that I'm addicted to hugs and have been forever and ever. It's funny how you can so many people you'll never see again. Small deaths all the time... deaths of aquantenceship, deaths of friendship, the death of a co-worker, a boss, a place... those are the best deaths, because the folks who have them really do keep on living forever. You'll never know when the real deal hits them unless some insensitive slob lets you know years down the line.
To mourn the death of Coronations, I wore a pink skirt, blue tights, a red top, turquoise shoes. one striped red and black sock, knee high, one clear white sock, an orange scarf, bright red lipstick and black mascara. I thanked people and walked on every pool table (with my shoes off) but somehow could not manage to sit on the edges of the tables. They have to resell those babies, you know. Someday a check will arrive in the mail for me for my last days working there. It'll be a few hundred dollars. I'll spend it wisely on frivalities.
Goodbye Coronations. I loved your space and your people. I'll miss you.
Nicole
I mean... dear blog,
If nobody reads it but you, it's a diary.
Last night was my last night at Coronations. They close tonight and, no doubt, will have plenty of crazy times in the next 24 hours. But last night was my last night and I think I did it right. I hugged everyone. People will chalk it up to drinks, never knowing that I'm addicted to hugs and have been forever and ever. It's funny how you can so many people you'll never see again. Small deaths all the time... deaths of aquantenceship, deaths of friendship, the death of a co-worker, a boss, a place... those are the best deaths, because the folks who have them really do keep on living forever. You'll never know when the real deal hits them unless some insensitive slob lets you know years down the line.
To mourn the death of Coronations, I wore a pink skirt, blue tights, a red top, turquoise shoes. one striped red and black sock, knee high, one clear white sock, an orange scarf, bright red lipstick and black mascara. I thanked people and walked on every pool table (with my shoes off) but somehow could not manage to sit on the edges of the tables. They have to resell those babies, you know. Someday a check will arrive in the mail for me for my last days working there. It'll be a few hundred dollars. I'll spend it wisely on frivalities.
Goodbye Coronations. I loved your space and your people. I'll miss you.
Nicole
Friday, October 26, 2007
Saturday, October 20, 2007
At a glance
There aren't many things you can tell about a person by just looking at them. I'll tell you, how they feel about their age is one of them.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Megaculture
I sometimes get the feeling that it is in our most secret language that we include or exclude each other.
There is an incredibly complex language between the sexes. It has so many variations within the megaculture (more on that later) that men and women quite often miss and misinterpret each other's signals. Through body language, glances, touch and chemicals, we communicate all the messages we can not say aloud. There are even ways to concel one's secret feelings - to lie in our secret languages. It is quite possible, even, for two people to have a secret conversation with each other within an aloud conversation with the very people they wish to concel it from. Of course, like all lies, the concealment lies with the skills of the liar.
Men have a language. They have have ways of assertaning whether other men are attempting to threaten them and whether those other men are in fact a threat. We see fights break out without apparent provication - an innocent word spoken, a simple glance. We all know men reluctant to hug, content with the barest acknowledgements of affection. The language between men is remarkably prevelant and remarkably subtle.
When we add these male and sexual dialogue together, we run the risk of entering into a language so complex only those with especially strong interpersonal relations skills (I almost **said degrees, and you can see why) would be able to flirt. The language must develop tools to communicate in a louder. Tt must develop symbols - a green carnation, a pair of chaps. When we add symbols to language, what we end up with is a culture and it is right that we refer to 'gay culture' as such.
Gay culture bears more striking resemblance to male-female sexual culture the further it moves away from being a 'secret' culture. Gay men and women are nowhere near as at risk as recent imigrants of being culturally disadvantaged because they have lived the language of that broader ranging culture from within for their entire lives. Perhaps the percentage of homosexuals is as it has always been, but that percentage represets a massive group of people. 'Races' of people run in danger of extinction as we globalize, but orientation remains a constant in all cultures and so, eventually, in the megaculture.
The megaculture is not global culture and, although the differences are subtle, they are vital. The term 'global culture' refers primarily to nation states, their growing interconnectivity and the impact on each while including all. Megaculture refers to no specific nation. It is not a rictor scale of conflict in the exerior world. Megaculture, like the Collective Unconscious, refers to the external world only as an influence and as it is influenced by the internal life. Unlike the Collective Unconscious, our myths are not the predominate influece. The Megaculture refers to what is inherent within all cultures and therefore represents human culture. It has existed for as long as human beings have existed seperately. However, in its current incarnation it is by far the most important of all human cultures. Never before have individuals, societies and cultures been subject to universal comparison and subsequent judgement. The Megaculture as it stands today is still a matter of taboo because the individual can not admit similarity to the other without risking idenity. As space runs out, as people find themselves living closer and closer to the other, taboo runs first into isms (racism, sexism primarily) but eventually into acceptance.
The Megaculture of the future will be dictated by human nature, by human decisions and by the silent human vote of all citizens of the Megaculture. That form is already presenting itself, comming together sometimes in explosions, sometimes so smoothly there is barely a tremor. There is an acknowledgement from all sides that individual cultures will melt as facial features blend together, as divides of poverty and wealth cease to have physical markers from birth. There is an primative acknowledgement that to globalize means to let others 'breed with our women', to accept massively contrary ways of life into areas of common ground. There is an acknowedgement the trappings and ideals of other cultures pose an enormous threat to each. The reactions differ from country to country, although often they are, as they have been since our tribal days, increadibly violent. These are global conflict. An appeal is made, perhaps as it was first made on a field somewhere in the begining of our time, through women and children. It is a silent appeal but, as technology equalizes the sexes physically, it has also begun to acknowledge an equality between them mentally. This is the appeal of the Megaculture majority.
Are women as smart as men? Do men and women really think so differently from eachother? Do the traditional roles for women make the best of their skills or do they merely serve to oppress them? If men use sex-specific communication bonds and men occupy positions of power within the global culture, the question becomes 'do men need to use this secret language to run a succesful business?' Most importantly, ss implicent male superiority in global decisions inherent to the Megaculture as it is to the global culture?
Like men, women sometimes must judge whether other women are a potential danger. A woman who is wishes to judge another woman does so by pursuing eye contact, by looking at the other woman, just as men look at other men, into the eyes. When any two people cross eachother's path, they decide whether to look at each other or avert eye contact. When a (to simlify matters) straight woman looks at another woman, she goes through a series of judgements. She gets an idea of the woman's age, her weight, her style of dress. Most often, whether she admires or detests the other woman on sight, she looks away. Sometimes, although it is rather rare, the women share a smile. It is not the same pretty smile they give to men but a rather ugly, utterly sincere smile. It is increadibly easy, as a woman, to get a woman to smile at you. You simply smile at them. If both women smile a connection grows between them. If one woman does not smile, it goes to reason, she's a bitch. Of course, if neither women smile yet both make eye contact, both will walk away feeling the other is a bitch. Of course there is far more to female smile culture than I've talked about here. Women regularly lie in smiles, often concealing pity or contempt. The openly contemptuous smile is such a mark of bitchiness that few women wear them with any regularity dealing with other women. Even more, there is far more to the secret language of woman than I've discussed here, just as there are many more male codes than fistfights.
The secret languages of men and woman are, have no doubt, translatable languages, two dialogues of Megaculture's human tounge. There is a way to say anything in female as you might want to say in male. I have not spoken here of lesbian languages but they too are subtle and complicated. All silent language must be decoded to become translated. This being said, the only reason male communications connect the majority of power based stuctures is, at the base level, men outcompete women based on physical features.
Even more so than homosexuals of either sex, females are a staple in all culture. Male attraction to women ensures the inclusion, on some level, of women in popular culture. Where global culture excludes, Megaculture acknowledges this as fact. Megaculture makes individuals feel as small as they really are - one of billions. It also includes us all.
** I use 'said' rather than 'wrote' because this is a blog and, I think, implies a casual conotation difficult to pull from 'wrote.'
Warning: Megaculture may eat your brains.
Unrealated sidenote: good fucking is yoga and yoga without fucking is lame, in case you didn't know.
There is an incredibly complex language between the sexes. It has so many variations within the megaculture (more on that later) that men and women quite often miss and misinterpret each other's signals. Through body language, glances, touch and chemicals, we communicate all the messages we can not say aloud. There are even ways to concel one's secret feelings - to lie in our secret languages. It is quite possible, even, for two people to have a secret conversation with each other within an aloud conversation with the very people they wish to concel it from. Of course, like all lies, the concealment lies with the skills of the liar.
Men have a language. They have have ways of assertaning whether other men are attempting to threaten them and whether those other men are in fact a threat. We see fights break out without apparent provication - an innocent word spoken, a simple glance. We all know men reluctant to hug, content with the barest acknowledgements of affection. The language between men is remarkably prevelant and remarkably subtle.
When we add these male and sexual dialogue together, we run the risk of entering into a language so complex only those with especially strong interpersonal relations skills (I almost **said degrees, and you can see why) would be able to flirt. The language must develop tools to communicate in a louder. Tt must develop symbols - a green carnation, a pair of chaps. When we add symbols to language, what we end up with is a culture and it is right that we refer to 'gay culture' as such.
Gay culture bears more striking resemblance to male-female sexual culture the further it moves away from being a 'secret' culture. Gay men and women are nowhere near as at risk as recent imigrants of being culturally disadvantaged because they have lived the language of that broader ranging culture from within for their entire lives. Perhaps the percentage of homosexuals is as it has always been, but that percentage represets a massive group of people. 'Races' of people run in danger of extinction as we globalize, but orientation remains a constant in all cultures and so, eventually, in the megaculture.
The megaculture is not global culture and, although the differences are subtle, they are vital. The term 'global culture' refers primarily to nation states, their growing interconnectivity and the impact on each while including all. Megaculture refers to no specific nation. It is not a rictor scale of conflict in the exerior world. Megaculture, like the Collective Unconscious, refers to the external world only as an influence and as it is influenced by the internal life. Unlike the Collective Unconscious, our myths are not the predominate influece. The Megaculture refers to what is inherent within all cultures and therefore represents human culture. It has existed for as long as human beings have existed seperately. However, in its current incarnation it is by far the most important of all human cultures. Never before have individuals, societies and cultures been subject to universal comparison and subsequent judgement. The Megaculture as it stands today is still a matter of taboo because the individual can not admit similarity to the other without risking idenity. As space runs out, as people find themselves living closer and closer to the other, taboo runs first into isms (racism, sexism primarily) but eventually into acceptance.
The Megaculture of the future will be dictated by human nature, by human decisions and by the silent human vote of all citizens of the Megaculture. That form is already presenting itself, comming together sometimes in explosions, sometimes so smoothly there is barely a tremor. There is an acknowledgement from all sides that individual cultures will melt as facial features blend together, as divides of poverty and wealth cease to have physical markers from birth. There is an primative acknowledgement that to globalize means to let others 'breed with our women', to accept massively contrary ways of life into areas of common ground. There is an acknowedgement the trappings and ideals of other cultures pose an enormous threat to each. The reactions differ from country to country, although often they are, as they have been since our tribal days, increadibly violent. These are global conflict. An appeal is made, perhaps as it was first made on a field somewhere in the begining of our time, through women and children. It is a silent appeal but, as technology equalizes the sexes physically, it has also begun to acknowledge an equality between them mentally. This is the appeal of the Megaculture majority.
Are women as smart as men? Do men and women really think so differently from eachother? Do the traditional roles for women make the best of their skills or do they merely serve to oppress them? If men use sex-specific communication bonds and men occupy positions of power within the global culture, the question becomes 'do men need to use this secret language to run a succesful business?' Most importantly, ss implicent male superiority in global decisions inherent to the Megaculture as it is to the global culture?
Like men, women sometimes must judge whether other women are a potential danger. A woman who is wishes to judge another woman does so by pursuing eye contact, by looking at the other woman, just as men look at other men, into the eyes. When any two people cross eachother's path, they decide whether to look at each other or avert eye contact. When a (to simlify matters) straight woman looks at another woman, she goes through a series of judgements. She gets an idea of the woman's age, her weight, her style of dress. Most often, whether she admires or detests the other woman on sight, she looks away. Sometimes, although it is rather rare, the women share a smile. It is not the same pretty smile they give to men but a rather ugly, utterly sincere smile. It is increadibly easy, as a woman, to get a woman to smile at you. You simply smile at them. If both women smile a connection grows between them. If one woman does not smile, it goes to reason, she's a bitch. Of course, if neither women smile yet both make eye contact, both will walk away feeling the other is a bitch. Of course there is far more to female smile culture than I've talked about here. Women regularly lie in smiles, often concealing pity or contempt. The openly contemptuous smile is such a mark of bitchiness that few women wear them with any regularity dealing with other women. Even more, there is far more to the secret language of woman than I've discussed here, just as there are many more male codes than fistfights.
The secret languages of men and woman are, have no doubt, translatable languages, two dialogues of Megaculture's human tounge. There is a way to say anything in female as you might want to say in male. I have not spoken here of lesbian languages but they too are subtle and complicated. All silent language must be decoded to become translated. This being said, the only reason male communications connect the majority of power based stuctures is, at the base level, men outcompete women based on physical features.
Even more so than homosexuals of either sex, females are a staple in all culture. Male attraction to women ensures the inclusion, on some level, of women in popular culture. Where global culture excludes, Megaculture acknowledges this as fact. Megaculture makes individuals feel as small as they really are - one of billions. It also includes us all.
** I use 'said' rather than 'wrote' because this is a blog and, I think, implies a casual conotation difficult to pull from 'wrote.'
Warning: Megaculture may eat your brains.
Unrealated sidenote: good fucking is yoga and yoga without fucking is lame, in case you didn't know.
Friday, October 5, 2007
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
Thanks God for Natural Selection
Dear Lord and Saviour of Mankind, we thank You.
Thank you for infinite complexity of the Universe.
Thank you for the suns that energize,
Thank you for the microcausms that spawned life,
Thank you for reason of Natural Selection,
and thank you, thank you
for the minds to comprehend it all.
We enter into a covenant with you:
We shall not forget reason,
We shall not forget Dinousaurs,
We shall not forget You,
Forever and Ever,
Amen
Thank you for infinite complexity of the Universe.
Thank you for the suns that energize,
Thank you for the microcausms that spawned life,
Thank you for reason of Natural Selection,
and thank you, thank you
for the minds to comprehend it all.
We enter into a covenant with you:
We shall not forget reason,
We shall not forget Dinousaurs,
We shall not forget You,
Forever and Ever,
Amen
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
Whatever
Since no one has ever and possibly will ever look at this... since I'm nobody and not likely to become somebody anytime soon... since the internet is a big place with millions (soon to be billions) of people on it... I can write whatever I want on this thing. Wicked.
Saturday, September 29, 2007
I've just discovered seed beads as part of the glaze
A flickr designer displayed some method to her creations and, even though the internet was mean and wouldn't tell me, I now have comfirmation that seed beads can be melted into ceramics. Thank the heavens!
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Glazed Abstraction
It is so hard to find good purples... you have no idea (unless you do, in which case you'll appreciate my efforts here). This glaze is a little dull from a distance but quite lovely up close.
Smooth Points
I really am in love with these colours. I submitted this one to a season's contest online under Fall... it's so summery but the colour really seems to be turning, just like a leaf. I doubt this will win because, really, it's very simple. I'm content with it though!
Aqua is Always 'In'
I'm so in love with this piece, I'll never sell it. The ceramic pendant is quite small but the glaze is sublime. It was, I think, my first real sucess, standing out like a gem on the tray of first attempts. I'm not entirely satisfied with the beads around it... but the nice thing about owning something you've made is that you can always take it apart.
The Dark Side of Bead Work
This is not as popular a piece as I might have thought. I've adopted it into my personal collection though, and wear it happily.
Pretending the Subtle
This turned out to be quite a popular piece, although not a personal favourite. I have a feeling it will go at my next show.
Share and share alike
So. I make jewelry. To my surprise, I sell my jewelry. The pendants are always ceramic because I love the versitility of clay and the wild and beautiful colours and effects of glazes. Right now, I'm working on my new line. In all probability, there won't be as many pieces in my November show as in my August show, but I hope the pieces will be a little more sophisticated, a little more marketable, and a little closer to perfection. I hope I'm learning and growing as an artist... I hope that one day very soon, I'll enter my work into a big show, and sell to perfect strangers, obligation free and gain new audiences. Wish me luck. Do it now. :P
Yellow Rusts
I'm so fond of this piece! I love glazes that mix and mingle, but I'm even more fond of the moments in pieces where a glaze stands on its own and refuses to mingle and react to the glazes around it.
Science is Not Fact
I'll use a classic example here, so I don't run into problems mixing my metephors. Imagine facts as you would in a murder mystery book. On page 182, our suspect is a man whose finger prints were found all over the room, whose blood matches the blood we've found on the scene, and who is described, exactly, by a young man with perfect vision and near perfect recollection, as the person killing our victim in a very distictive way with a Golf club. As it turns out, our suspect is also a pro golfer whose measured swing is in line with the forensic reading of blunt force our victim suffered. Of course, on page 213, we find out that the suspect has an identical twin brother. Now, this is hardly good fiction. It's too obvious and too improbable. Once you've read the explanation once, the punchline is forever ruined for you... and I guarentee you've read it at least once.
Now on another plant, one in which identical twins are more prevelant, the mystery would have seemed so obvious you need not have read past page 182. So where do we run into problems. Where do we find a people who would be so fooled by such a riddle, the answer would never occur to them? We would have to find a world of 'one's. The liklihood of such a world, I'll admit, is rather preposterous. But this is only because we are looking for an exact missing fact. When the missing fact could be anything at all, the probability of 'here' being in any way different from 'there' rises significantly. Science assures us that, because we can see 'over there', that we may gather information about 'over there' in every way that matters. So much depends on where 'over there' is. What if, by a definition we have not yet found parametres for, anything truly 'over there' is invisible to the naked eye. What if other realms and other spaces exist 'over there' that we are not in tune with? Science runs a cable of rules from 'here' to 'there'. They are 'universal constants'. It tests theories of light and energy and finds very few dark spots, one per gallexy. Science had predicted these dark spots. Science is facinated with these dark spots. There is a wiff in the air that these dark spots are page 213. Science is not fact but, so long as there are universal constants, so long as the predictions of science are made and questioned, rephrased and answered, there is the hope that science will, one day, compute all the facts.
I suspect that day, were it to arise, would not give birth to an enlightened humanity, science's secret hope. When we run out of facts, when we are forced to admit our own puny futures from our own puny reality, I suspect we will do as we have always done and ignore facts, twist them, molest them with meaning. After that, if we survive, we may truly begin to understand. Perhaps we will understand because we will shrink the universe down to our level of understanding. Perhaps we will simply be more. Perhaps understanding will be all that is left of us.
Then they will say of us:
Here lies humanity: They understood so that we did not have to.
Peace,
Nicole
Now on another plant, one in which identical twins are more prevelant, the mystery would have seemed so obvious you need not have read past page 182. So where do we run into problems. Where do we find a people who would be so fooled by such a riddle, the answer would never occur to them? We would have to find a world of 'one's. The liklihood of such a world, I'll admit, is rather preposterous. But this is only because we are looking for an exact missing fact. When the missing fact could be anything at all, the probability of 'here' being in any way different from 'there' rises significantly. Science assures us that, because we can see 'over there', that we may gather information about 'over there' in every way that matters. So much depends on where 'over there' is. What if, by a definition we have not yet found parametres for, anything truly 'over there' is invisible to the naked eye. What if other realms and other spaces exist 'over there' that we are not in tune with? Science runs a cable of rules from 'here' to 'there'. They are 'universal constants'. It tests theories of light and energy and finds very few dark spots, one per gallexy. Science had predicted these dark spots. Science is facinated with these dark spots. There is a wiff in the air that these dark spots are page 213. Science is not fact but, so long as there are universal constants, so long as the predictions of science are made and questioned, rephrased and answered, there is the hope that science will, one day, compute all the facts.
I suspect that day, were it to arise, would not give birth to an enlightened humanity, science's secret hope. When we run out of facts, when we are forced to admit our own puny futures from our own puny reality, I suspect we will do as we have always done and ignore facts, twist them, molest them with meaning. After that, if we survive, we may truly begin to understand. Perhaps we will understand because we will shrink the universe down to our level of understanding. Perhaps we will simply be more. Perhaps understanding will be all that is left of us.
Then they will say of us:
Here lies humanity: They understood so that we did not have to.
Peace,
Nicole
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Monday, September 24, 2007
Your tragedy too
So, if someone asked you what your tragedy was... if, standing at the edge of eternal bliss, someone were to turn you around and ask you "what makes you think you deserve to be here?" what would you say? There are only really two answers to this question, so you better decide which one is yours. Either you deserve to be there because the tragedy count starts so far back, when you were a kid, when you couldn't help being a victim of it, no matter what, or it started late, real late, and every tragedy is of your own making. Don't worry though - none of you fall into the later. You'd have to be the child of an enormously wealthy movie producer who thought ahead enough that you never had a pet goldfish or a servant over 25. You would have to had to encounter death for the first time at an age where you were so corrupted, that in itself would serve as a tragedy enough. It hasn't happened yet.
The encounter with death for those who grow up torchered or torchering is perverted horribly. To encounter death too young is to be indelibly scared by it. I wonder sometimes if they go numb or if they feel it as acutely as you and I would if we suddenly switched body. There are two camps of thought on this issue. Those who buy gas for their tanks and diamonds for their fiancees would be wise to consider which they fall into and which they would like to.
Before compliance sets in, remember, for He or They who do not encounter death at all, we are all thus considered.
The encounter with death for those who grow up torchered or torchering is perverted horribly. To encounter death too young is to be indelibly scared by it. I wonder sometimes if they go numb or if they feel it as acutely as you and I would if we suddenly switched body. There are two camps of thought on this issue. Those who buy gas for their tanks and diamonds for their fiancees would be wise to consider which they fall into and which they would like to.
Before compliance sets in, remember, for He or They who do not encounter death at all, we are all thus considered.
Saturday, September 22, 2007
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