a heart is dancing, yet.

a heart is dancing, yet.
dancing with endless memories of music and sharing, with the most wonderful people I’ve ever gotten to know, playing sometimes dreamily, others manically, all magically (a quantum link is created when playing with others, a form of telepathy, that makes you realize that you don’t need to phenomenally interact, with your eyes, barely your ears, when contemplating, playing around a piece of music. I owe to Charlotte, Joey, and Sarah to have given me the opportunity to look for and find this Noumenon of art);
yet I fear for man. I fear the banalization of evil, and tragedy, its quantification, “who killed more than who”; i even fear “isms”, stereotypes and clichés, as they blind one from observing life changing, stop the power of imagination and interpretation of the world. I fear myself, when I won’t shed a tear, when my heart won’t be heavy. I fear the media, for showing tragedy in order to support their ideas. Refusing an emotion, a response, is very much what the idea of terrorism is about: when we stop caring, they win. one doesn’t die until his or her name is spoken for the last time – one does communicate with the passed, and the biography can be transcended. Through art. art being the idea of the sacred – giving a super-sensible meaning to the sensible, making it last beyond its natural limits, art is about sharing what one believes to be worth making eternal, stand beyond and beside itself. consider the meaning that is carried through you, whether that meaning is aesthetic, structural, memory. The greatness of the human mind should always overcome any physical power – only then existence can be carried, and borne. only hearts can beat in unison, as a human only sees his or her own way, yet the quality of what is being experienced can be shared – once again, in a form of contemplation. I will obviously not talk about any racial, sexual, religious, or political dissection of the world, as to me all people can and should feed off being with others (literally: BEING). you may call it love, but to be loving and knowing is but the same thing; and the process probably starts with knowing. Ignorance only gives way to Pandora’s box, and even though openness to the world is tough, acceptance being the price of modern life (things are all so close, intertwined in the knot of social and personal life, it becomes difficult to open up, declare oneself to the immensity of the world. one ethical lesson that fluid mechanics have taught me is that among the infinite scales and floors of existence, flux of energy, thought, intention and everything abound – flux is a necessity of life, beyond even evolution and becoming. refusal of such flux is refusal of life, willed ignorance and uninterest prosper in a closed off area. by staying and embracing the world, I only mean to give it meaning, to not leave unattended a part of your life – for others can shape it. independence, yet recognizing; memory, yet going; challenge yet carress. neither yet existence.
the crisis of life is when one stops thinking, thinking about, to, of, despite, with. the normality should not lead to normalism, formalism. give weight, and do.
we fear, yet.
unwillingly going on we see others see yet if we saw ourselves see, we would try and give a change
anxiety is awareness to the square of knowledge. fear is anxiety with the refusal of change.
seeing something repeated makes it normal, usual. yet in art, repetition is both the essence of its experience, the condition of its cognitive ability, yet the flux in which any art moves and is shaped, be it time, air, canvas, the stage, in the concert hall, even perhaps at home, gives change. this is the power of interpretation of life by itself. repetition and media, by making evil observable, quantified, only manages to integrate it to our life, with its own rhythm, habits, to render us unable to change it. making outward out of inward.
i lose my words for I know that you know – I trust you, and your knowledge of the partial uncompleteness of language.

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