Anything we’ve seen
[ americanifesto / 場黑麥 / jpr / urbanartopia / whorphan ]
Showing posts with label skin. Show all posts
Showing posts with label skin. Show all posts
24 September 2018
04 April 2018
haiku 4 Apr 2018
The bright nudibranch
Its skin poisonous to touch
Creaped slowly along
[ americanifesto / 場黑麥 / jpr / urbanartopia / whorphan ]
17 January 2018
haiku 17 Jan 2018
An east-facing door
Cornmeal spread beneath deer-skins
White Wind breathes in life
[ americanifesto / 場黑麥 / jpr / urbanartopia / whorphan ]
06 November 2017
haiku 06 Nov 2017
A moving canvas
Images etched into skin
Beautiful, self-so
americanifesto / 場黑麥 / jpr / urbanartopia / whorphan
Images etched into skin
Beautiful, self-so
americanifesto / 場黑麥 / jpr / urbanartopia / whorphan
02 December 2015
dream-state writing – Bali
I was standing on a white, sandy beach that stretched roughly a mile into the distance. Before me was a fence of finely-meshed metal, eye-like segments kept upright by slender, silvery poles. On my side of the fence were shallow pools and small waves crashing upon the sand but little vegetation or other signs of life. On the far side of the fence, however, was a lush, thick, dark jungle whose tendrils, here and there, had crept through the fencing, low green feelers. I then became aware of a figure standing directly opposite me, on the far side. Tall and fit, she had dark brown, almost black skin, and breasts without nipples. Upon her shoulders were epaulets of some sort, golden metal covers attached to one another with a golden chain or rope. About her waist was a belt of some sort, round and golden segments that shimmered in the bright sunlight. What appeared to be wings sprouted from her back where the center of a human's scapula would be, sharp edges with concave endings and eye-like adornments similar to the fence's meshing, too many of them to count, moving so fast they could also have not been moving at all. Her dark and unblinking eyes were scanning the horizon behind me, but then she turned to match my enraptured gaze and suddenly her head grew tenfold in size and all I could see was her enormous, dark-brown face between the thin mesh links of the silvery fence, and there was something in the center of her forehead I could not fully make out and her great mane of black hair appeared to shimmered in the dazzling light but all I could really see were her eyes, dark pits of impartial nothingness, as inconceivable and deep as the cusp of an event horizon, yet they contained a certain spark, or presence, an essence that while invisible was nonetheless there, nonetheless, on some level of my consciousness, tangible. Her head shrank to its former size, she turned, and in her wings was that same impartial nothingness, that same pregnant and chaotic void I had seen in her gaze, but there were also innumerable eyes looking back out of the unfathomable darkness there, eyes I could not really see but feel as they probed my spirit and all that I am and ever was. She turned to look at me once more then vanished and reappeared perhaps 200 meters down the fence, turned again to look at me, then teleported two more times, each time a bit further down the far side of the fence, four times turning back to look at me. When she had reached the farthest point of the island I could see, she vanished altogether.
I awoke deeply moved by the experience, humbled before the unimaginable power my dream-visitor possessed, and knowing, somewhere deep down, that she had been and would forever more be watching me, my every thought and feeling, that if I chose a path of Light and Truthfulness I might one day join her on the far side of the fence but if I chose a path of Darkness and Deceit I would forever stay upon the barren sand, burned by the brilliant sun and denied the riches the far jungle had to offer. I thank this mighty force for paying me a visit and love her beyond mere words can say. Mahalo, suksma, namaste.
© americanifesto / 場黑麥
I awoke deeply moved by the experience, humbled before the unimaginable power my dream-visitor possessed, and knowing, somewhere deep down, that she had been and would forever more be watching me, my every thought and feeling, that if I chose a path of Light and Truthfulness I might one day join her on the far side of the fence but if I chose a path of Darkness and Deceit I would forever stay upon the barren sand, burned by the brilliant sun and denied the riches the far jungle had to offer. I thank this mighty force for paying me a visit and love her beyond mere words can say. Mahalo, suksma, namaste.
© americanifesto / 場黑麥
09 November 2012
on replacement parts
I've just replaced all 4 brake pads on my bicycle. Fortunately, my locally-owned neighborhood bicycle shop had parts that fit the outdated hardware on my nearly 2-decade-old velocipede, which was my father's until he'd gotten too old to ride it. With the pull of a cable and the twist of a wrench, the new pieces were in place, and now my whip no longer squeaks when it stops. This simple procedure came none too soon: upon closer inspection I discovered that the old pads had worn down to the metal in places, digging into the rims, reducing the power and speed of braking, and weakening the smog-sled's crucial elements.
Strangely enough, while I was deciding whether to pair up the 2 still-serviceable pads or just buy a new set, I came across a snippet of text – whether it was in a magazine or on one of the news website I read, I cannot remember – that reminded me of the body's own replacement schedule. The text said that the human body completely replaces the skin every 3 years, the liver every 5 (or vice-versa). Having studied biology extensively while preparing for the Abitur, I was able to picture my body slowly but continuously swapping out cell after cell, cluster after cluster, until these two important organs had been fully reformed. I find it fascinating that our bodies do this without outside input and using only the foodstuffs we shove into our gaping suck-holes; I am always amazed anew at just how good this meat-sack is at keeping me healthy and my systems up and running. While sitting here in the cold and writing this, I just remembered that the body replaces the entire skeleton roughly once every 30 years, which means that few if any of the cells that make up my current body are those with which I was born. How strange it is to think that I am an altogether different person than who I was during childhood – let alone at birth – and that these differences go beyond my train-wrecked emotional state or the cruelly-stunted development of my pitiable moral tableau; as a totally different person, I find that the neuroses and hangups that seem to so strongly define many important parts of my psyche continue to exist, regardless of the fact that most of me is new – probably because some part of me wants or needs them to exist in order for it to exist.
Compared to the body's automatic replacement process, the mind tends to remain subject to the destructive and short-sighted will of the ego far longer than is normally necessary, which compels us to defend our honor, to cling to material possessions, and to do most anything in our power to win arguments so that we can pat ourselves on the back and tell ourselves that we were Right All Along. How nice it would be if we could all learn to wrangle our egos and subject them to the will of nothingness, to the doctrine of non-existence (Wu), something that rarely happens in our modern capitalist society, an artificial construct that thrives only when our egos rule our every move, always tipping the scales in their favor, forever keeping us in self-imposed slavery to petty external needs. The person seeking to shed the ego for something greater, for something worthwhile, might well find relief in the ancient books and teachings; that person is advised to steer clear of organized religion, however, which will prey ferociously upon his ego and try to kindle within his bosom the fires of fearful discontentment so as to bind him forever to the notion of Salvation From Without. As we have seen, however, and as science continues to show us, salvation from death and renewal to life begins and ends within us, and few external forces beyond a bit of food and drink can speed them up or slow them down. (Consuming drugs, including alcohol, by the way, and mistreating the body by smoking cigarettes and denying it exercise will dramatically infringe upon its ability to heal itself.) Be safe, be well, and mahalo.
© mentiri factorem fecit (場黑麥)
Strangely enough, while I was deciding whether to pair up the 2 still-serviceable pads or just buy a new set, I came across a snippet of text – whether it was in a magazine or on one of the news website I read, I cannot remember – that reminded me of the body's own replacement schedule. The text said that the human body completely replaces the skin every 3 years, the liver every 5 (or vice-versa). Having studied biology extensively while preparing for the Abitur, I was able to picture my body slowly but continuously swapping out cell after cell, cluster after cluster, until these two important organs had been fully reformed. I find it fascinating that our bodies do this without outside input and using only the foodstuffs we shove into our gaping suck-holes; I am always amazed anew at just how good this meat-sack is at keeping me healthy and my systems up and running. While sitting here in the cold and writing this, I just remembered that the body replaces the entire skeleton roughly once every 30 years, which means that few if any of the cells that make up my current body are those with which I was born. How strange it is to think that I am an altogether different person than who I was during childhood – let alone at birth – and that these differences go beyond my train-wrecked emotional state or the cruelly-stunted development of my pitiable moral tableau; as a totally different person, I find that the neuroses and hangups that seem to so strongly define many important parts of my psyche continue to exist, regardless of the fact that most of me is new – probably because some part of me wants or needs them to exist in order for it to exist.
Compared to the body's automatic replacement process, the mind tends to remain subject to the destructive and short-sighted will of the ego far longer than is normally necessary, which compels us to defend our honor, to cling to material possessions, and to do most anything in our power to win arguments so that we can pat ourselves on the back and tell ourselves that we were Right All Along. How nice it would be if we could all learn to wrangle our egos and subject them to the will of nothingness, to the doctrine of non-existence (Wu), something that rarely happens in our modern capitalist society, an artificial construct that thrives only when our egos rule our every move, always tipping the scales in their favor, forever keeping us in self-imposed slavery to petty external needs. The person seeking to shed the ego for something greater, for something worthwhile, might well find relief in the ancient books and teachings; that person is advised to steer clear of organized religion, however, which will prey ferociously upon his ego and try to kindle within his bosom the fires of fearful discontentment so as to bind him forever to the notion of Salvation From Without. As we have seen, however, and as science continues to show us, salvation from death and renewal to life begins and ends within us, and few external forces beyond a bit of food and drink can speed them up or slow them down. (Consuming drugs, including alcohol, by the way, and mistreating the body by smoking cigarettes and denying it exercise will dramatically infringe upon its ability to heal itself.) Be safe, be well, and mahalo.
© mentiri factorem fecit (場黑麥)
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)