cohering.net home conceptual adventuring

  mirrorplay in freedom of association
gary e. davis
December 9, 2016
 


In a word, an anthropological etymology may echo, e.g., truth as “truth.”

In principle, everything is self-quotational: Time is unwittingly expressed in there being any articulation: An authorial life is implicitly implied by the specificity of a narrative point, necessarily concealing a mystery in the clarity of what’s between us
in read writing.

Yet, what’s conveyed may be doubly displaced from the heart of expression because heartful possession shapes its fulfilling conception before necessary translation of that—for there being something to convey—into clear (presumably) presentation, fair presence. The artist channels her possession into insightfulness which is translated for a “given” audience (anticipated or specific).

So, a text is always potentially a trace of artistry, such that finding artistry in common presence not only conjectures insight of authorial translation, but brings one’s own artistry of reading into granting what can have been borne. “I” is your authorship, and you are her address—playing to mirroring (authorial), mirroring in play (readerly). The text itself is a liminality of potential intimacy.

All phenomenality is in a sense textual, in principle glyphically auratic, as, say, leafy stems “turn” to the sun (as if); or a pattern “shows itself” in foliage. As if everything can be authorial confession mediated by its potential for presence with you.


What artistry any life may unwittingly become, only to be killed in its prime by accident that is briefly noted in the news, quickly forgotten. Carry on, like a gorgeous species that left no fossils (becoming, hundreds of millions of years later, drops of crude oil).

But no, our intelligent life leaves monuments, and the news is that each passing is a little monumental, especially as long as we translate presence into stories that may last.

Even the most tangible work of art is a story to be found, as Found Art was always about the potential of things to be sanctifiable.

We who sanctify do so because it’s the best that we can do with our finite time.

Yet, let there ultimately be fun: sharing explorations, confessing engagements, prospecting insight, and even conceptually flourishing, like a fluffy tree branches by reaching into its surround, implying an ecospheric rhizome of biogenic interplays giving way to fruitfulness.

A self identity flowers from an inestimably rhizomic temporality of interfacing lives.

And the metropoles seen from satellites look like massive lichens of light sprawling across black spaces, rhizomically interlacing with other metropoles like an extraterrestrial singularity across vast regions.

If a cohering discursive sphere were a red berry, its kindred literatures could be likened to a branch of berry-clumped Firethorn (common to northern California)
in a bushy consilience of discursive living (the global university?) in the bushy evolution of motley humanity.

Not to be excessive for the sake of vanity, but botany is a luscious venue for tropogeny, because plants speak outcomes of eonic prospecting.

Cells have complex molecules which have two legs, literally, and move intracellular structures that they’ve “grabbed” in the cell, across their cellular ecology by literally walking along fibers [see video @ 1m :13s here].

So, when a developmental biologist talks about “chemical intelligence”—next episode—the trope is accurate.

We all live in conceptually tropal ecologies because the fabulously complex being of life evincively translates itself that way. We’re at home in warm-and-fuzzy philologies, knowing that, and so wanting to know: What is there really?

Well, It really is phenomenality all the way down. Even the most exact determin-ations of physicality are approximative. “String” theory? Apparently, the Higgs particle shows itself at an energy level that leaves indeterminate whether our Universe is all there is or is one of many, but with a physics that happens to allow beings that may evolve to pursue questions, like: Is “nearby” galactic intelligence
not yet able to signal? Are they choosing silence? Are they signaling, but We’re not evolved enough to get it?


< previous -|- Next: in praise of integral openness -|- topic: autumn leaves


   
 
  Be fair. © 2017, gary e. davis