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Many kinds of love live: artistic, deep friendship, teacherly, intimate, spiritual—
how best to parse such being? ordinary, academic, extraordinary? love of days, sojournal, creative, sacred, erotic, philosophical, marital, parental?
A well-known academic philosopher of ethics culminates his career with a book titled Reasons of Love. Which love best prevails for which room of one’s temporal ecosphere?
However one parses such happy being, somehow they’re all “love.” So, ‘love’ said
is always implicitly in quote marks.
I love the times we made.
A conceptual analysis is possible. But what fun could that be? Yet, an appeal of, say, feeling, thinking, intuiting, sensing, perceiving, and valuing all loves together, all belonging with each other, inworldly and outworldly, finding innerwordliness and outerwordliness belonging together in the same manifold trans-liminality of being, is funny, happy.
Cohering love of life is a venture without final goal, a resoluteness of well-purposed mind, enactional Flow, telic efficacy drawn to horizons with no idea what’s there— mystery! Risky Challenge. Transgression. goddess Eros echoing goddess Gaia: elations wholly flourishing in love of awing gravities.
I thought, while gardening, that modes of life are rooms in a house of articulation, all proximally rendered with various degrees of three colors or dimensions: selfal, interpersonal, and objectivating—proximally speaking. Primordially, though, who’s to say how differentiating is best done? What inter-psychal intimacy can be made?
“It depends,” of course. Primordially, there’s a long way to wonder, and the depend-ing can be lovely: telic cohering of one’s Project, career, friendships, family,
creative works, and so on—telic cohering of the life going on, never to know that “mine” ended.
Yet, you’re here, the Library never dies, times evince times, life goes on. We are
the generative Continuing, discovering, creating, amplifying the Archive of human-ity, if not evincing regionally-new paradigms of tropality, conceptuality— Ultimacy?
Right.
—continuity of life: cohering of wholly flourishive selfidentity as depth of generativ-ity whose genealogy is made congruent with a scale of wholly ongoing Project-ivity.
That’s funny, no?
Temporality of a life can’t be comprehensively retraced—unless maybe one keeps good journals for decades.
Me? Hardly.
One lives manifold ecosphericalities born of ecogenies that receded before possibly being conceived as such.
A comprehensive conception of that would be a mental ecology—yet evolving, so
no Absolute Concept can be more than paradigmatic, and understanding that draws one into thinking beyond It: There, the Conception, I, the appreciation living on—
not as a matter of formal design.
Just, that’s how it goes in wanting prospectivity to gain ultimate gravity: conceiving finds itself in an evolving.
Better to me is pursuing the evolving of evolving, which seems to become a kind of self-designing discursivity which has no ultimate conception of its generativity— other than appealing prospections (waystational Conceptions) about Ultimacy— about being an Earthling on a ride around a relatively recent star, all that jazz,
you know.
“poetic”: highly tropal, evocative, evincive in relation to resonances... Given that
one wants It, given being Open, It gives phenomenal possibility.
Not second guessing the present, what is not intended by the present surprises.
tropal sensibility: ordinary words as Found Art...
Tropal sensibility may see
a newspaper paragraph as sublime or uncanny.
High sensibility and artistry can choose to make daily time into Found Art: “ecstatic quotidian” (love her—you?), “everyday artfulness” (her, too).
Sensibility of highly tropal thinking may also appropriate resonances for conceptual prospecting.
But that’s not what’s been historically called philosophy.
However, we’re free to call it as it flies
poiesis of life
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