How does memory capture beauty? How is it recalled in the mind? If beauty is a truth, and truth only in the moment, can beauty still be beauty if it's inside a memory? Maybe the way beauty is documented in the mind is that it can't be totally recalled, but one can… More
How does memory capture beauty? How is it recalled in the mind? If beauty is a truth, and truth only in the moment, can beauty still be beauty if it's inside a memory? Maybe the way beauty is documented in the mind is that it can't be totally recalled, but one can intellectually acknowledge that it was beauty once experienced, and an imprint of the feeling that one experiences with beauty remains forever with you. I think that beauty almost gains meaning by traversing across time through human consciousness, via art or nature or human quality, and in that way it becomes eternal.
...
You must forgive me, as living on my own often permits the voices in my head to wander in halves, skipping about my room and tossing clothes and old receipts around, arguing with the other half. As fun as that sounds, it actually turns into a lot of questioning, and it stifles me. Though it may produce a nifty thought, I find that it can suppress my emotions, and I feel vacant and longing. Like my heart and soul got scroonched all cartoon-like into a small milkjar. *unscrews cap and smacks bottom of bottle*
In states like that, I need senses to synchronize and attack...so I can feel something. Have you ever felt moved when you hear a certain song that reminds you of a good memory, and combined with the joy of where you're at when you hear the song again (or with what you're doing), and perhaps other (somewhat) positive factors surrounding your life at that moment, you feel...heightened? Hyper-sensitive, hyper-aware maybe. Doesn't happen so often, but it can happen. There are times for me when a song or an image or sometimes even a smell can trigger many memories, and I see them all at once, like a lightning bolt zapping a clear path through my memory and crashing to the floor. My eyes become a balance of introversion and extroversion - they are a collage of these old memories, but they are what they're seeing at the moment as well. And the song goes on. The dance goes on. The flavor goes on. It all builds to a crescendo of energy and nostalgia and of beauty, whatever it is, and you feel like you might erupt from your body in a burst of blood, brains and magic.
Then it ends. The alien turns down the knobs, and returns to dormancy.
...
I don't know. I wish there was an easier way to arrive to that thinking. But, the emergence of sunshine this past week really put me in high spirits, and it has got my voices questioning my love of winter (though it's not my favorite). Maybe I just didn't realize what these dull months were doing to me. Especially in California. I swear, thanks to the climate, time is a whole new entity in this state. I walked out of the movie theater last night and thought it was July. And the weather here seems to completely forget about Christmas. Mother Nature and Father Time have forged a bond...to trick the souls of the Great Left Coast into bounding across the calendar and losing all track of reality. And I am one of their limp-limbed test puppets.
If anybody knows their Guess Who...[i]"It's the neeew Mother Nature taking over..."[/i]
In other news: Today is my 3-year anniversary of posting on RottenTomatoes. As decreed by Neumthor...Bow! Bow to your Golden King!
[img]http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v625/TerraBrain/allhailKingHomer.gif[/img]