Friday, June 13, 2008
what a fountain really looks like
It is interesting how we assume that we can trust our senses. But this picture does not lie. In the same way that a movie is a collection of still frames, a water fountain squirts water that form little blobs, due to surface tension. It is a defect in our brain that gives it the appearance of a constant stream.
How many other things are different from what we percieve?
cattail symphony
One evening last summer I rode my bike to a small creek in a park. The sun began to fall. The birds sang out for the last time that day, before retiring to their nests. A red-winged blackbird (like the one in the picture above) stayed perched on a cattail near me... singing its familiar song.
I sat there and listened to the birds for quite a while.
After some time I started hearing the combined birdsongs of the many species of birds as if it were one huge symphony. Their music was complex, but it definitely sounded like "music" to me.
I noticed that their music moved though space. I could hear one bird begin a cycle, far off, down the creek. Then another would respond, and another, and another... getting closer and closer to me... then past me, and further down the creek. Sometimes the songs would travel back and forth.
The different birds seemed to have different lengths to their song cycles. But they cycles combined in a beautiful complex rhythm. Much like the phase-shifting loops, in Brian Eno's (Steve Reich-inspired) Ambient music.
The pitch relationships of the songs were interesting too. They were quite complex. Some rose and fell. Some had little melodies. The combination was astounding. Much more complex than human music. I wonder if birds and whales might consider a lot of human music to be repetitive and dull?
It also reminded me of drum circles... how a bunch of drummers need to play for a while until they start hearing a melodic rhythm emerge, with each drummer finding the spots where his/her drum notes fit in. When everyone collaborates and locks together, it becomes beautiful music, and the whole becomes greater than the sum of its parts. Collaborative events like this give me hope for social creatures, like ourselves.
toyota gamelan
I found an automobile brake drum in the back lane. I intended on polishing it, and using it as a percussion instrument. But I left it in the rain and it began to rust. So I left it outside.
I like the texture and colour of the rust. I sometimes play it out there, using drum sticks that I made from tree branches . It has a sound somewhere between a bell and a gong.
bumblebee landing pad #2
The other day I read that insects have sense receptors that allow them to sense two frequency ranges that we humans lost (along our evolutionary path). One of these was the ability to see the Infrared spectrum. There is a lot of detail in flowers that we just do not see.
So... considering the fact that flowers are as beautiful as they are...
Imagine what the insects see.
bumblebee landing pad #1
cactus flower
The cactus on my living room windowsill flowered the other day. It rarely flowers.
That cactus is older than my 17-year-old son.
I try to give it a good life. But I feel sorry for that cactus . It is a living being... one that is living very far removed from its natural habitat... much like an animal in a zoo. It flowers, but I know it will never produce young, since there are no others nearby to mate with. This makes me think about people who never have children.
A couple of weeks ago I bought my first digital camera. One of the first pictures I took was this close-up of the cactus flower. I was amazed at the complex, chaotic beauty I found when I zoomed into the flower. It made me wonder about plants...
Do they have a primitive form of consciousness or awareness?
Do they make choices about how to evolve in their environments? Or are they merely complex, reactive "machines"?
What drives them to procreate? Why do they want to live? What is the point of it? Do they have a choice?
Plants are made up from the same four DNA building blocks as we are... just differently arranged. So we are distantly-related. Do we communicate with all living beings on some subatomic subconscious level?
That cactus is older than my 17-year-old son.
I try to give it a good life. But I feel sorry for that cactus . It is a living being... one that is living very far removed from its natural habitat... much like an animal in a zoo. It flowers, but I know it will never produce young, since there are no others nearby to mate with. This makes me think about people who never have children.
A couple of weeks ago I bought my first digital camera. One of the first pictures I took was this close-up of the cactus flower. I was amazed at the complex, chaotic beauty I found when I zoomed into the flower. It made me wonder about plants...
Do they have a primitive form of consciousness or awareness?
Do they make choices about how to evolve in their environments? Or are they merely complex, reactive "machines"?
What drives them to procreate? Why do they want to live? What is the point of it? Do they have a choice?
Plants are made up from the same four DNA building blocks as we are... just differently arranged. So we are distantly-related. Do we communicate with all living beings on some subatomic subconscious level?
dance
In school we had a subject called "Physical Education". I didn't learn a lot in that class, other than how to play a few sports. I learned more about "physical education" by climbing trees and exploring in the woods. My phys-ed teachers didn't seem all that physically "educated", when I think back.
Dancers are the most "physically educated" people I have met. They move with conscious intention. They have such an intimate and deep knowledge about their own bodies, and about movement. They are always working on their art. When you see a dancer or athlete walk, sit, or stand, she/he moves with a gracefulness and intelligence that only comes with a lot of training and experience.
When I was a kid I spent a lot of time in the forest, climbing hills and trees, running, etc. I was always active. I was agile, and in good shape. I was aware of my body.
As a Musical Accompanist for modern dance classes, I work with a lot of dancers. And being in their world has made me aware of how out of touch I am with my body... with intentional movement... with living fully.
My downslide began when I got a car at age 25, and it became worse when I got a house. Comfort is nice sometimes, but it seems to make me lazy, and less human.
I need to find some balance, and really experience the physicality of living again... before it is too late.
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