Message-ID: <Pine.NEB.4.64.0812231517410.6134@panix1.panix.com>
From: Alan Sondheim <sondheim@panix.com>
To: Cyb <cybermind@listserv.aol.com>, Wryting-L <WRYTING-L@listserv.wvu.edu>
Subject: Nightwork
Date: Tue, 23 Dec 2008 15:17:55 -0500 (EST)
Nightwork It was F. S. Fitzgerald who said it's St. John's dark night of the soul at 3 a.m. in the morning, and I can attest to that. In the midst of exhaus- tion, moments of clarity in spite of myself, in spite of themselves. You can see this in the gleam of the nightwork images and the reorganization of nature and culture in the Second Life work. Here Schelling's cows are all black in equivalence, so perfect in your kind visit to the grounds and their difficulty entering and moving about. A hint would be surely to fly and a second hint would be to explore vertically and upward, perhaps with- out help you might find yourself remaining in a great universe moving through space and in this movement you are greater and higher than you have ever been before. Greater, higher. And you do not know where you are, Mr. Jones or Miss Appleby, you are in Ultima Thule, beyond Gauss's divi- sion of the circle into seventeen equal parts, an example of the general case. Ultima Thule is the circle of darkness, Gauss the brilliant light within, but we know in our wisdom that Ultima Thule is luminous, Gauss confined to the confusion of a night without stars, gods, boddhisatvas, a night where nightwork generates a remnant across Jordan's Jordan's curves from which there is no escape; if Cocteau's beauty within, the beast with- out, and without, the true beauty, within the true beast. Now, unseeing, we huddle in an emptiness opening everywhere, even within second or third lives, lives of small huddled creatures like ourselves, lives of protista large and luminous like auroras in the northern skies. Fitzgerald saw them from Ultima Thule, as did Schelling, in spite of Hegel, in spite of gnaw- ing at identity, in spite of plunging back into mathesis where mindless- ness reigns. Now look and visit, an eleven image alter from the following and then visit and look, what moves within worlds of worlds, performatives scurrying beneath each and every surface, perhaps Anthony flew. http://www.alansondheim.org/nightwork1.png http://www.alansondheim.org/nightwork2.png http://www.alansondheim.org/nightwork3.png http://www.alansondheim.org/nightwork4.png http://www.alansondheim.org/nightwork5.png http://www.alansondheim.org/nightwork6.png http://www.alansondheim.org/nightwork7.png http://www.alansondheim.org/nightwork8.png http://www.alansondheim.org/nightwork9.png http://www.alansondheim.org/nightwork0.png http://www.alansondheim.org/nightworka.png http://slurl.com/secondlife/Odyssey/48/12/22