Sunday, August 10, 2014
From the first cave painting, from the first cantus firmus, the eye sees form and the ear hears motion and from these conceives patterns and in these creates a mirror of self, knows self and becomes a higher self. If the drum is silent, reason speaks. The drum is ego, the craving for power, it is not power. A lively conversation does not put the mind to sleep. It engages it, makes it aware of itself and in it finds the next lesson. This is emergence made of the joy of discovery.
Scales or RGB are fundamental to be learned by disciplined repetition but are not themselves, thoughts. They are linens, light without a reflective surface. Harmony binds melody to color and time makes the canvas on which worlds are made but the intellect that chooses a mode or mixes a color, the chooser of choices, this is the highest art of all. Our melodies fade like water on sands, our colors fade into the sunset of our lives, but the thoughts made and impressed into living flesh shine on illuminating self for the eye that sees above and below