the deep garden

there are days, even weeks, wherein the objects of perception, even sounds and scents, linger on the fringes of consciousness, not associated with any cosmic proportion or particular meaningfulness; there are moments, even hours, wherein these same sensations are imbued with magical properties of interrelatedness and incomprehensable reason and logic. it is this second set of bits and pieces that brings my hands to a keyboard, pen or brush......it is this second level that calls ambiguously from the switching stations of thought and realization; that brings to focus attentions to the unexplored regions of frontal cortex and waylays the obfuscation of the primal nut from which it sprang. then, in a fraction of a second, the old lizard can spring from danger and, couching out of awareness, watch, unthinking, for the familiar sensations of millions of years, block the newer part and take control of both reason and perception....so i have ventured to trick the old reptile into lying in the warmth of creation and sleeping until its need to feed or propagate. the cotton tufts of dandelions and hanging webs full of a thousand emerging spiders; the crepe myrtle's shedding its thin bark and forcing life through its seemingly inanimate branches; the cat, stretching in its sleep; the wrens rustling in the undergrowth.......all reach into tomorrow's tomorrows by proven measures and natural impulses. and so the vast territory, sprung from the head's of old Gods, thwarts the ambitions of older processes, daring to move at great speeds, unencumbered by the beliefs that would stick it closer to the core of the old Universe, moving more slowly toward its ultimate disintegration and reabsorption. Yet, the momentum gained by this calculation sends lighter matter into the darkness of space toward other worlds of thought; and when worlds collide, reality is remanifest as it has countless times. A chair will remain where it was last placed, until some need for its repositioning occurs....perhaps a passerby will move the chair, for unknown reasons, then walk by, having produced a change in time, and it is certain that not a millisecond shall pass without all conscious things being altered, and that even inanimate rocks will restructure the infinite dreams of future being and that this being is but a sideway of the realms of dreams, through which all the thinking of mankind passes in its return. if i re-enter the room, every perception of that room will have changed, due to minor variations in the equation for the event having failed to reproduce with exactitude......for the artist, all new materials have been provided by this shift of perspective; therefore, the thinker is reawakened to change and variation....to the infinitude of perpetuity....even an electron, diverted from it's course changes the cosmos....