Fanciful and luxurious things fade from memory, and beautiful, natural experiences grow near. Losing sight of the familiar and miles and miles of fog dim ambition and soften reality. Mortality, the morbid, the moments of fear fade even as they are observed from a distance. All motions of life's symphony are not judged but essential to the equation of balance and transformation. All the years of periodic routine and career have almost left the building of intellectual archives, and indeed archives themselves are no longer necessary.
The mind only buys what it can use in a short amount of time, and is disinterested in long term learning, is disinterested in memories or keeping score. Even calculated tolls from earlier in the week have diminished as if they had happened five years before.
Sleep takes on a formidable roll and disproportionate ratio of importance and intensity now, and sleep itself seems to be my career. Veiled in purposeful waking release, the lessons of dream time accumulate in an encoded, subconscious mode, stored behind a firewall for later use in some future state of parallel reality.
With the mind in a mist, the body in transformation and a schedule non-existent, my default mental exercises are anxious for school to start again in some form, but maybe this time, I will be the teacher.
Eve's Paintings & Prints
No comments:
Post a Comment