i dont have anything i can use to word this except for pretty
on the nature of mental spaces (3/3)
conclusion - downward movement - form, no content
ambient
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the mandelbrot fractal in music
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Republished
QUASARRR!
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It's really cool to see something that speaks to something internal in me.
This reminds me of how thoughts bounce around in my head. It's like they're little balls trapped inside of a large concrete chamber. They bounce off of the walls and off of eachother. Slowly, their rhythm changes. Some balls dissapear and some form out of thin air. When I'm stressed, it's like the room is shaking, causing the balls to move faster and more erratically. When I meditate, the room stops moving.
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this is great <3
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theres something passing you by, you figure they are particles, but you dont really see them, you can only comprehend them in your thoughts. Some are faster, some are slower, some seemingly heavier, some lighter. They seem to have a purpose, they interact with each other, have a rhythm. However, you cant make out the correlations, try to understand. They are moving in strange angles, which switch regularly, quantum tunneling? But you catch yourself staring at a blank wall, are they real?
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thank you for these observations YITO! is any wall blank—can anything be without its own features? yet somehow we never seem to truly observe anything's rawest qualities, we can only correspond their echoes with constructed form. and what is music but past sounds fading in our minds? seems to me like there's no more perfect analogy!
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Always dear to me was this solitary hill and this hedge, which, from so many parts of the far horizon, the sight excludes.
But sitting and gazing, endless spaces beyond it, and inhuman silences, and the deepest quiet I fake myself in my thoughts; where almost my heart scares. And as the wind I hear rustling through these trees, I, that infinite silence, to this voice keep comparing: and I feel the eternal, the dead seasons, the present, and living one, and the sound of her. (...)
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So in this immensity drown my own thoughts: and sinking in this sea is sweet to me.
Giacomo Leopardi
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it sucks that we know nothing
