CosmiKnot

Leaf Blowing Guys Of course there is the other side to the Leafblower. The tragi-cosmic hero (single guy) At one with the Universe He tries in vain to channel the powers of the cosmos thru his mechanical wand. He is the spiritual tuning fork Art for him is a Cosmic Force Unaware that nature's playing him rather than the other way around. But even at his most hubristic he can’t help actually helping bring something sacred into existence. The black exclamation mark shouting, unheard in the ear protected chaos. You poor vulnerable absurdist fool. Who sent you? Take me to you leafer.

We are living in an age defined by the post-rationalisatic tendencies of the left-brain. This “mode” of thinking is so embedded in our culture that it’s hard to notice. I’ll try and explain, as much for myself rather than out of a need to foist my views on you.  The left-brain is the area that focuses specifically and enables us to grab or get. It is what allows us to categorize and process data. This relies on objective separation, something that empathy does not. If you look at current news all of it is processed through the left-brain. This is because social media has spread journalistic thinking over the world like a binary skin. Now the post-rationalisation process is apparent when Cameron says the Paris murders are an attack on Our Way of life. Sounds very convincing. It’s also retaliation for Western involvement in Syria. Again sounds convincing but the left-brain has been scientifically proven to justify actions it had no part in deciding to implement or understand. The ...

Wood smoke that’s a nice smell isn’t it? That's a nice smell isn't it? I proffered as I approached the two old ladies Seated close together opposite the woodburner behind the low table at the end of a cabin The table where you pay for the books I had four clutched to my breast Taken from the giant book sale in the potting shed across the garden path. Where do you pay for the books? A tall man had earlier asked me Or at least he asked someone as he stood there in his pastel coloured Sunday rambling attire And I was there In the other hut I assume I shrugged He followed me there hesitating for a moment as the handle resisted my efforts. A sharp tug and we were in. Such an enchanting space. A narrow wooden cabin lined with books. Yes it is One of the old ladies replied A comforting sort of smell Yes it is I said I don’t know why? I added exhilarated to meet someone else who found it so That this was not necessary struck me in an...