The “seen it” phenomenon almost completely passed me by.
I cannot understand how it is possible to be bored by too much experience.
The more things we see – the more patterns we notice.
The more patterns we notice – the more things we find interesting.
When we pay attention, experience is the act of creation:
of an image out of patterns of light and dark,
of a thought out of words and images,
of a world out of perceptions and thoughts…
One notable exception is the entertainment industry,
where the “seen it” phenomenon happens to me all the time.
Category: Poetry
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Been there, done that…
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Patriotism
Patriotism is a bizarre belief
that we are better than everyone else
because we happened to be born in a particular place or into a particular group.
Sociologically it is maintained by politicians
as one of the cheapest and most efficient methods of control.
Individually, it is maintained by our refusal to examine a premise
that gives us a warm and glowy feeling of being special. -
Patterns
If you think about it,
thinking has a paradoxical quality to it.
It is a process of creating patterns and reducing complexity.
Too much complexity is random noise – it is ugly and makes us think.
We think.
We create elegant patterns.
We create structure.
But too much structure is fundamentally boring –
for there is nothing to think about! -
Synaesthesia
There are times in life when synaesthesia becomes inescapable,
when water smells like lead and feels blue…
when you forget what things are supposed to be and –
just for a second –
perceive some of what they are…
or – a more frightening thought –
you forget what you are supposed to be… -
The curtain
The wings of night cover the sky,
subtly changing the quality of light,
imperceptibly turning it into a highlight for darkness…
The time of transformation,
the time of uncertainty,
the time of magic.
The curtain of the day –
was the play worth it? -
A monument to Yuri Gagarin in London – verse 1
The city is made of shadows of history,
from the heavy metal shadows of ideas,
through the solid, slightly organic, old-stone shadows of creation,
to the barely noticeable, evanescent shadows of lives unexamined and barely lived,
momentarily dispersed by prevalent winds,
lives of which the city itself is composed,
its life blood,
without which it is just a heap of stuff,
a stone doll-house decorated by metal figurines… -
A monument to Yuri Gagarin in London – verse 2
Everything burns up in time:
people,
monuments,
ideas,
planets,
galaxies…
and all the losses but the first one are completely non-significant.