Monday, January 23, 2012
Altered states are strange. They can be fun, but at the end of it all you always have to come back to a reality that isn't as elastic, that cannot so easily be manipulated. It might be boring, it might be unenjoyable, but when everything runs out it'll always be there waiting for you.
You can't live in the alternate dimension forever, it's too unstable a place to be. The more you try to extend it, to deny its finiteness and commit yourself to it, the more painful re-entry will be.
I'd say the point at which I generally choose to return is earlier than most. I need stability, or maybe I grow too uneasy to go further. Whatever the reasons, they inform my views - I don't mean this to come across as a didactic rant. Maybe the people I watch who push themselves further and further are just a lot more confident in themselves than I am or something.
Strangely, these views are also contributed to by the research I did for my thesis. I suppose in the terror of losing yourself in your own head, theoreticians might be a good place to turn. (Or at least I feel less inclined to question someone who appears in a lot of peer reviewed journals, can stand up to critical readings or has a lot of publications under their belt. Which on the one hand sounds incredibly stupid, and on the other kind of makes sense. I think. Whores will have their trinkets!)
It was a constant feeling last year while writing - in attempting to provide a critical framework for my art in which I found myself so invested (if not in physical action then in thought and white hairs), I was somehow trying to create an existential model by which I could live. Or at least pretend to.
In trying to deny the veracity of a telos through the deconstruction of various schema and conventions, I eventually found myself acknowledging its necessity. To passively take in all that surrounds you, to not make at least some sense of it, would leave you set adrift in chaos. To collapse those boundaries between you and your surrounds would make you less than a part of everything - you would become everything and thus nothing. Indistinguishable. Thus a telos, a framework, became necessary in my mind. However, it was essential this were to have a level of flexibility - to be a fluid thing which would not be toppled completely if its components were to be rearranged.
There is so much that we can account for and quantify, but inestimably more beyond that. If we don't attempt to navigate this at all, like I said, we are not ourselves but just an everything. There are things that we can take in, and things that we just can't, or shouldn't for the mere purpose of functioning.
We have to be semi-permeable membranes.
Speaking of, did you know that the only living parts of a cnidarian are the membranous "skin" of cells on the body and specialised cells of the tentacles/analogous wobbly bits depending on the species?
Too cool. Too cool for school.
Bloody hell it's been a while since one of these brain vomits.