Archives for September 2017

The Bigger Picture of Reality Now & Then

Neuronal Networking is abstract.

AI is abstract.

VR & Mixed Reality are abstract.

Awareness is.

We know this and best try to express and explore the big questions using mediums of all kinds, media to teach and learn, so as to learn as teaching.

We are fundamentally a research and experimentation company, who also produces media that moves minds forward.

This is an exploration of life itself.

That is our fundamental grounding: “What is life?”

We are already living an augmented reality…

It takes us where?

There is a hole in the conversation about…

There is a hole in the conversation about the future, in a way that creates a magnificent world, and I mean a conversation that doesn’t manipulate the people observing or learning or ingesting the contemplation, and by manipulation I mean the use of music, of false imagery, of specific editing and doing so in a way that isn’t to enhance the conversation but to bludgeon the mind of the observer to crack open a pathway into their mind without their permission of understanding of what it is.

That to me is unacceptable, even though it’s the way of our world, and I mean perhaps so for the entirety of our existence as the beings that we are.

Does it matter beyond fulfilling my own curiosity?

That’s a question that I’ve never been able to completely answer without feeling insincere about my answers as if my answers are not fulfilling my own wanting.

When you live in the question absurdity of a kind comes alive for you.

There’s noting in it, but the need to know what’s true for yourself and thus for everyone else.

It’s comes back to design and creation for the sake of an end, but also for the pleasure of exploration of life and the field itself.

Then you are to get on in your exploration of it and the creation of your work.

Sintra, Portugal, a coffee, a view, the language moving around me and I in thought around consciousness and…

There are words that take the mind to places it has yet to know exist.
Continually in conversation I hear the wall where one has stopped listening or looking.
How fast we are to stall our search for the things we believe we want to know when the things we want to know are anywhere but in the place we are looking if we are looking any longer to discover the unknown.

Easily frustration will run through my mind while in conversation with others, only at the closed questions they aren’t asking.

I share this in a way to understand my own mind that writhes in muddles of neuronal puddles.

If I am asleep to these things than where am I to fall, other than upon a dull landscape, when with a few breaths and a clearing of contemplation, the dreamscape will present itself to me once again.

And in this way I too will recognize my blindness, which is a necessity for me.

Speaking of blindness, do see with your eyes closed while wide awake, beyond the eye lids?

What I’m getting at is the unknown of my existence, always.

What lies below stays in its own world bubbling up at moments to tap inklings of existence to my conscious mind.

There’s nothing in it to know, because what is once known no longer exists.

This doesn’t mean much once again.

Getting through to my self is what I’m pushing and pulling at

Writing is for this very thing, a clarifying agent of a kind.

For two nights I sat in dreams curios to know what they wanted from me, what they were telling me, and the crushing of the rocks, the falling of the sky, the driving over cliffs and surviving it all barely, night after night, and always with a touch of unsettling ease, has me wondering what the field is speaking.

We’ll be talking more about this in writings to come.

Dreams as truth tellers…
Fields of existence as vortexes and holders of conversations…
Of environments creating creatures…

And the use of it all as a way to explore life itself.

Moving Without Taking a Step…

You transform as you travel, through space and time, wants and desires rolling over worlds of make believe.

Imagination carries a singular reality, shape shifting upon the conceiver’s mind, one layer of reality at a time.

Experience stretches membranes of existence over your eyes, thin layers of skin continue to disguise.

And as you rub away, to clear the view, the callus cracks scratch back at you.

And in it all you may recognize, you are dreaming without eyes.

The layers laid, thought upon thought.

Decomposing upon what’s not.

You’ve never travelled, yet here you are, still taking your breaths from a distant shore.