Variation versus synchronicity

The brain is an amazing place. For the past four or five hours, my brain has been a mental fire and I have been jumping around trying to collect the blue oxygenated flames that lurk therein. I sit here in silence except for the beauty of the Goldberg variations and the sound of the trees in my garden, and with the cold breeze of the fully open window hitting my bare shoulder.

When I was a keen school pupil, I took time off school and went to a performance of Cosi at the Royal Opera House; it was a performance in modern dress. To this day, if you talk to me about this performance, I will tell you that it was uncomfortable - I'm one for period costume in Mozart. As my good friend David once said to me on the occasion of going back to College to pick up our MAs,

"the stage is the same, but the players are different".

I know I have quoted this before, but right now it seems to add to my thought.

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When I was younger, I used to play hide & seek - it was a game: a childish game - it was fun. The best thing about hide & seek was that no matter how difficult the place you hid was to find, someone would always find you. What if no one ever found you?

My evening has been a bit odd because it all happened rather spontaneously - my mind is all over the place at the moment both in career terms and in personal terms (fundementally, I have a lot to sort out, but I've got to learn to be happy with my 'lot' first).

I found myself having a lovely dinner in Waterloo with Gavin and Nigel. On my way home, I noticed the buildings: isn't it strange how over the course of modern-human existence, our arguments remain the same, it is only the set that has evolved. In the modern religious wars (and the other major and minor arguments) there is very little changed about the script since the beginning of time, just the players and the set - just like the Mozart opera I went to see.

A city like London is such a construct. It is such a frail existence - it exists as a place humans like myself try to hide in - to continue our existence as set designers for the cyclical arguments of time; I could live in this hide & seek world forever believing I'm living the most exciting and most creative life imaginable - except that the real excitement is not there because noone will come to find me - I'm the only one who can find myself. I know that I'm about to directly contradict about 3 posts ago -but then any man who claims to have the answer to anything is just stubborn - I may have said this about 20 posts ago.

It is interesting that living in my city 'construct' there are two places I go to escape this non-reality; the first is the river - the most natural place within the city, and the second is my holodeck. Jon's holodeck is his close friends: it is a curious retrograde inversion that my holodeck is more real than the construct I live in. The problem with the construct is that it is full of stupid rules about how you must do things - how you must live. The city constuct is the breeding place for the ridiculous rules of society: take a look at this excellent cynical look at the rules we fall into line and follow -



These ridiculous rules have even infiltrated my holodeck. I am disappointed every time I try to be organic - it is ignored by the conscience of infiltrating rules. The most obvious parts of any script are the parts that are not there - the parts never acknowledged in communication. That said, I know I would be hypocritical were I to condemn this.

Thus far, my only answer to escape the false framework of hiding people within the city constuct of society's headquarters, constantly evolving to recreate the view of the computer game, is to escape to a wild place in the country next to the sea for ever. In order for it to work, I would need to take my close people with me... but I can't... it is too late... we are all bitten by the construct sooner or later - do you remember the computer game 'lemmings'? Why can't people be real any more? Why can't people express organic feeling? Why is everyone gradually turning to concrete? Am I the only one who sees it? I don't feel it anymore - that feeling of destruction every time it happens, I just feel a bit of myself die every time.

None of this is real: nothing feels real anymore. I'm bitten.


JL