THE MEDIUM

“Until you spoke to her the other day, and until I saw in you a looking-glass that showed me what I once felt myself, I did not know what I had done. What have I done!... My Dear! Believe this: when she first came to me, I meant to save her from misery like my own. At first I meant no more. … But as she grew, and promised to be very beautiful, I gradually did worse, … I stole her heart away and put ice in its place.”

  The Thought is clear, then overthought......gimmicked by idle decoration......not as easy to 'see'......Our brains first run the tendril 'filters' of bias, prejudice, preconception, expectation, desirability, and a thousand others....and 'thats' how we remember......even an image, as a mass of electrical impulses, cannot enter the caverns of Mind, without a myriad of sub-conscious manipulations......often, the most important Art is overlaid with many layers of paint...and many 'words' end in wire baskets or under kindling......Just the 'putting it down' shapes ideas to fit the Frame, beautiful lace trims are eliminated for the 'sake' of Fashion.....and a touch of lipstick shapes the lips that speak..... Even the rounded, gold tip of a quill pen is a manifestation of the Glamour of It All......

Just yesterday two people commented, critically, about my artsy intellectualizations of their own observations of my perceived psychometric pseudo-science physics, math and psychiatry....which I endured, tongue firmly placed against the mouth cavern part of my cheek to restrain the literalness of their impolitic naivety, as my thoughts about all of this rattled around in my skull with all the other excesses of cerebral enthusiasm..... This was the upchuck that I left for them to ponder, for a second or two, before dismissing my ramblings to make room for the inconsequentialities of micron-thick interests in their own veneers of hard polished waxings..... How could anyone think that I'm serious! Yet, there is method in my madness and much that I think may be...in these words about the observable poesy of it all........Thank you Ronny Laing, Rollo May, Søren Kierkegaard, Carl Sagan and so many others, for all this elucidative confusion..... Then, in 1970, I tripped over ...

  birds can identify their neighbors by their songs, sometimes..by a single note..... dogs can smell your coming and sense your mood before you do...... my cat has an immense, communicative vocabulary and is always reminding me of his unique requirements...... the man who sees individuals avoids conflict........ everyone wants to be recognized as unique....

  \ waiting, in my vehicle, for a friend......I projected my mindset onto an abandoned bookcase, an old doll and some draped plastic.....The 'view' out is always first processed though our memory circuits.......and the images that we perceive are always processed in reverse.....