Beauty is such a strange sadness to a wise beholder. Truth, wrapped in youth like those blossoms that in aging inadvertently aspire to become the hollow frames or elder coccoons to which their own pattern or tapestry in time must trace an inevitable descent and unforgiving trajectory. We celebrate the flower, the spring growth and […]
The enigmas of human psychology and culture are writ large in the domain of Gothic fascination with darkness and death.
True beauty just is, and exists before language, thought and technology.
We are bound by fear to our Objects and fantasies of Other and Self as much as by desire and there is a complex logical undercurrent and rationale to the ways that we (enigmatically) encrypt aversion into attraction and revulsion or death into fertility and life.
Broken things and imperfect people are often far more interesting than are complete and whole ones…
We find ourselves endlessly aspiring towards procedurally patterned symmetries of refinement in an iterated and accelerating aspiration towards beauty, knowledge and control.
You can not be whole for the same reason you can not control the world – there is at base no controller, knower or self and this is the greatest unacknowledged enigma of our world.
That which frees us is also that which binds us.
Loneliness may be to some extent inevitable; suffering as a consequence is probably not…
Love is a theorem of that deeper drive and fundamental axiom towards unity, procreation and species self-propagation that as incorporate creatures we translate as desire.
We are our own products and the curators of our selves…
…most of us blunder our way through the world (at least, but not solely – emotionally) from one disaster to another. We seek that Other that is only ever going to be superficially “right” for us because at some deep level of awareness we know that our very essential nature and psychological being requires dissonance and discontinuity to continue to exist…
Daedelus Kite 