Where Time Stands Still

            Hello! And welcome to the 26th Dimension. Careful, you will encounter many unusual attractions. Please mind where you step, the floor in the 10th dimension can get a bit runny, and the walls in the 17th dimension disintegrate altogether. Of course, by the 20th dimension, the telescopic ceiling will evaporate for your mental safety, but you’ll not be able to forget the pregnant pull of event horizons on your body I promise you that. No, please don’t touch that, the material feels and shatters like wedding china.

If you look to your mirror left you should find the bloated gases of infant galaxies comforting, and to your asymmetrical right you may see carbon planets coalescing in the dense, elemental heat. Ah, yes, the explosion of faraway bangs gravid with potential, peaceful isn’t it? I must warn you, Time will dance with the oscillating furnishings before you, and after you, if you pay close attention, but, only briefly, and only with your permission.

Are you chilly? I’m sorry, but I have only a blanket of anticipatory silence to offer you. Stay close, the perverted mobiüs strips of these corners can cause confusion and loss of coordination.

Yes, these five dimensional doorways do belch an ambiguous bouquet. I smell it too. I suppose you could cry out, but the reverberation of collapsing space would swallow it before it reached the end of your face. Apologize for bringing you here? I guess I could, but who (or what?) would bother to wipe up the mess? You could leave this particular dimension, but I wouldn’t if I were you, the doorknobs tend to move with the ticking of the space-time continuum, and you would definitely get lost in some obscure year or century, and I wouldn’t want that on my record. I’m looking to be Tour Guide of the Month, you know. Yes, those bulbous masses of what seem like satisfying sofas are ages scrolling forward and backward, but rest assured, presently we are still. No, I wouldn’t open my eyes just yet, infinity multiplied by infinity tends to stare back, I’m afraid. Even if we did remove, odds are we’ll begin again at the end, so it’s best to just move on to the end of the beginning, don’t you agree? We’re nearly around the room. So glad you noticed, the day breaks (and quite literally too!) here, often, while strange geometrically impossible shapes flap against that upside stairwell. Nothing equals nothing, so something refuses to exist here. Speaking of something, some thing with slobbering jaws and comfortable shoes just floated past your shoulder, and I think you’ve begun to grow a sixth appendage from your ribcage. No matter, the water still tastes like water every other Friday, and like cotton on every opposing Tuesday, that is, when such concepts as “Friday” and “Tuesday” bother to exist. I’m Contradictory? I suppose it may seem so. I can’t tell anymore, I’ve been here a long time. At least, I think I have. It’s difficult to know, all the clocks here are figured in modular arithmetic. Well, believe me, I don’t mean to be cryptic, but numbers are theoretical here. No, if you lean against that wall, you’ll lose viscosity, and you wouldn’t want that, would you? I know you’re tired, but we’re nearly through. See? Here’s the way in again. Oh, you needn’t worry about anything, your senses will reconstitute when you return to your own dimension.

Thank you and I do hope you enjoyed the tour. For your pleasure, there is a universal whiskey bar that serves cosmic-strength caffeinated coffee at the opposite end of the spectrum, a mere six billion light years to the negative sixteenth power from here, and a café that serves three dimensional tea that tastes faintly of summer ginger with a pinch of relish may open in an hour, when and if the hour decides to re-present itself.

Mind your step at the edge of Time on your way out.

*Top image: “Where Time Stands Still” by Thy Darkest Hour
Second image: photomanipulation by NIKOtheOrb using stock “Cosmos 4_0008 “and “Starfield” by Funerium distrubuted by Resurgere Stock and “Yoga Model” by Stock Gallery
Third image: “Constellation of Time” by FractalAngel-Stock

Take A Bite Out Of The Big Apple

For about 7 months, my boyfriend and I lived outside in the woods. We slept on the ground, watched the daily runs of the animals each day rather than television, we slipped gently into sleep each night beneath a starscape, conversing on consciousness and what it meant to be alive as a conscious human being. We professed dreams and lived them; we undertook a journey of mental acuity and adeptness, while learning the potential aptitudes inherent in humanity. We thought that we possessed a nature lifestyle and that nature should be our home for the rest of our days. We thought only in the embrace of nature could we enjoy meandering through the timeless channels of higher consciousness . . . we were mistaken. Although, nature had become our mountain, like Zarathustra we had never left it.

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In the wonderful words of Mr. Feynman, we decided to find out whether city living was as oppressive as we supposed it to be. We chose our next adventure to take a bite out of the Big Apple (what better atmosphere of City can there be on the East Coast, pray tell). We landed at K-Pax’s surprising arrival point on a tachyon beam after a 3 hour train ride, and exited quickly for the streets. Punched full in the face by the pace of the city and the volume of human bodies moving uniformly, like some kind of concrete ballet, in both directions (was this some sort of nondualistic play?), it was easy to slip into the stream and ride the current from one point to the next. We walked to Times Square (a place so vivid it seemed constructed using CGI), and suddenly I understood the sheer magnitude and bravery the director of Vanilla Sky demonstrated in this famous scene. There were people occupying every square footage it seemed, somehow innately aware of their space and the space of others. I only saw people bump into each other once or twice, as the idea of congestion simply did not exist here. Only motion, sheer motion, wave after wave of people, moving as one undulating body. To see truly this phenomenon we had to find higher ground.

After purchasing Metro Cards, we rode the subway to Union Square,

Click for enlarged, detailed view.

where we emerged from the tunnels directly into an open air Farmer’s Market. The fragrances of free wine-tasting, colorful fruits and vegetables, and bouquets of spices, herbs and roots swept us into the flow of the Market. Around the corner, a chocolate restaurant titillated us with their cocoa aromas. Once around the Market and adjacent Park, and a brief chat with an Australian, we were pointed in the direction of The High Line. Stopping briefly to admire what sounded like rain dropping on a wind chime emitting from a fellow playing a hang drum (one of my favorite scenes of the adventure), we continued along the Line. From this vantage point, the full aspects of this city could be gleaned.

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As in nature where the animals have their daily runs, a well-worn path taken each day to their preferred spots of food and water from their homes, as it is in a city. Humans leave their homes and meander through the concrete paths towards clothing and food, or social habitat. Rather than trees, there are buildings and in them house living beings. Around every corner and down every street, there is an adventure to be had, a sense to be expanded. In one direction from the Line sat the Bay, the Hudson and the Statue of Liberty, in the other shops, cars, and buildings as far as I could see, as if they disappeared at the horizon, like I was a star on the Truman Show. There was a network here, a living organism reciprocating with one another. I had never seen such efficiency, the same as nature. I wished I could have stayed longer.

Our trip ended with a small amount of time seated on a bench in

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Battery Park (where a bird so tamed by humans’ hand-feeding, sat beside me and waited for its treat), talking about what we’d seen. The subway rides, the food, the perfumes, the interesting characters and caricatures of people, the subtleties of life . . . we marinated in it. This was an adventure wanting repeated . . .and we are eager to give in. It wasn’t until this moment, that I realized I do not have a specific city or nature lifestyle; I go with the flow of things, for I am a flexible being. Adventure can be found wherever I roam, as adventure is housed not at the place but in the spirit of humans. Whosoever has the notion for the wild life (and by wild that can be anything adventure-some or just out of the ordinary, or the ability to see uniqueness in the mundane or not being bored because one is always looking for opportunity to be bewildered…to see life as a playground) will find adventure.

Whosoever is willing to step off the precipice wearing a wingsuit will fly.

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Reality Personified

“Reality is only a Rorschach ink-blot, you know.” ~Alan Watts

It’s these blistery October afternoons that remind us all how delicate we are. How fragile our beings have become, spent too many days denied the light of our inner sun. We must remember that we are more like the seasons: we Fall and we Spring, we die and we live, wane and wax like the Winter/Summer tide.

We are Consciousness contained in a moment, personified. Infinity beats in our willful hearts. We are Humanity, connected and amplified. We needn’t run from the inevitable convergene of our open minds. Breathe in, breathe out. Exhale. Inhale.

Fear is the illusion of misery’s child and we are innately flexible. Courage is not in a liquid escape hatch and awkwardness is not rejected by a rainbow of 3-dimensional dots, post script.

We are change. . .we embody it. We can change our minds, it is not a matter of expensive faith, it is simply the matter of course. Look inside. . . no monster lurks here. Only the power to alter ourselves. With power comes will and we can Will to change anything out there.

Reality is not set down on sheets of paper. Reality is realized in the minds of conscious beings. . . and we are consciousness. We are Woman and we are Man. We are Humanity fooled into thinking that we have to behave like apes, apeing our inherent ability at Honesty, Integrity, Reliability, Peace, Accountability. It’s only a difference of knowing that the game does not have to be rigged.

If Life is a game, why don’t we Play?

Why don’t we swing on the spiral playground, laughing at ourselves for being so silly as to think this wasn’t just a ride. We don’t have to grow old. . . we can live anew.

WHEEEEEEEE!

See the experimental music video inspired by this post, REMIX: Reality rePersonified, here.

 

The Joyous Cosmology

“So the relationship between the organism and the environment is transactional. The environment grows the organism and organism in turn creates the environment. The organism turns the sun into light, but it requires there to be an environment containing a sun for there to be an organism at all. Now the answer to it all is they are all one process. And it isn’t that organisms by chance came into this world, but rather that this world is sort of the environment which grows organisms. It was that way from the beginning.” ~Alan Watts, The Joyous Cosmology

*The fractal sphere by Scott Draves and the Electric Sheep

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This Ain’t No Maxwell House

Autumn Brewed

It’s snowing golden leaves

while the sun plays tricks with our eyes.

Little bits of color, formed into wood. . .

molecules smell like exploding stars:

tiny nuclear reactions contained in a rainbow.

WOW!

And it’s always been this way?

Has it.

A billion pieces of We

on the circuit board of Life.

Take a sip.

This ain’t no Maxwell House.

UPDATE: I collaborated with musician Nancy Pontius to put these words to her beautiful voice and wonderful playing.

Music Video Post for the song (mix), here.

And at YouTube on my channel, here.

Hear the original (un-mixed) track here. More original songs by Nancy here.

Thanks, Nancy!