Monday, June 18, 2012

Foundations and Theory (II)






Foundations and Theory (II)

L. Edgar Otto   18 June, 2012

I offer today more vague symbolism as developing in my general focus of language and sensations, intuitive photos worked into panels if only art- but the symbols are a code or language (the philosophy encyclopedia contains the view that physics and mathematics is but a language and that is certainly part of the picture at least in these debates and dialog.  In civil discourse I see the "flame wars" as a detraction from the issues of what is to become of our science methods as much as what benefit we can have of them by struggle and survival where it is a default that not all of us are interested in such a view of what we humans are or why we can exist to each other as if our opinions and biases are a scandal to human understanding.)

I have found my own positions somewhat at odds on the level of core logic's and language for it appears as happens in the history of philosophers like Newton with intended purposes the consequences are not always expected. I have a coherent but obscure logical language and mathematical method but does that amount to a grasp of the reality or just my sense of things, the sensations.

Lately I have reveled in my sensations, sensitive to things like exploring the limits of my body, taking longer walks, noticing deeply what in my ever more limited world as far as travel goes the effect of more space as if it were a freedom of that great mystery and controversy, motion. It is the most beautiful time of the year here, as if not knowing the layers of snow and ice or the clouds of foggy humidity one can fall in love at first sight with some arbitrary place. But on my walks and encounters at this later time I walk with all the times with past echoes as if memory is made flesh and even with the short term memory of the soldier coming home or the kid long burned out from street drugs something is left worth saving or at least where they make the connections to their past aid them to find their friends again.

I sometimes feel I am running out of things to photograph in but one place, one  town with familiar streets.  It takes an effort to stumble on something to see through artistic eyes or scientific ones, same thing really, but I did stop to photograph the rocks and stones used from the river for garden drainage and such with just the feeling it could be a useful photo, as if to show the unique gravel from the soil and rocks of this region which for those here is unnoticed as all too common.  So I have the stones in their natural color (but here I only suggest a higher qualitative or philosophic sense of how we share color as the usual issues and try to go beyond that as a metaphor)  Then with the saturation enhanced by the Microsoft program viewer I found a wide and natural variation in the colors- a natural and not false or artificial color arrangement.

In the illustration I also show an arrangement of plants that decorate the city in the summer to remind me that some see the world only on the level of the philosophy and primacy of living things.  But on the background of the natural stone colors I add the small copy of the intensity of them, even more intense than they when wet.  I then show a sense of realism and reductionism over an indefinite neutral landscape each with its intense colors and each perhaps seeing the others as gray.  As a child I viewed the moon through a small telescope but it had many colors left from small deviations in the tube and lens so I drew the moon in enhanced colors and my toy rubber ball seemed to match its caves and craters deeper than the black and white, as I would learn later so to the stars.

So it is that this is the case, the arrangement of colors whatever view we may take of the foundations of physics (including as Rowlands does in agreement with some philosophies of foundation that physics is primary... realism to some extent depending on how we interpret things).  One might think then when our first childhood ideas come into intuitive focus that rocks rather than being arbitrary and dull are in a a sense alive- but this is part of the results of our impressions to which we have not fully understood yet.

What complex philosophy might begin to understand the colors of our analytic machines let alone our consciousness?  I know only that all things seem to me temporary for our expectations and entitlements in this world and that, although we sometimes need space to heal from wounds of work and chance, that the totality of the landscape is not about the buildings and terrain but the color that in a sense endures- and in terms of memory that sort of color is the people who have walked therein even more than what may or may not be the meaning and thought purposes of time.  Existing in the universe sometimes hurts but the only helping hand is the giving of love and awareness without reservation and with caution for we cannot enter the dreams of others without taking a look at our own dreams, nor should we if it is but a shallow sense of time.  Thus what we are to each other endures even when out of sight and touch or that we cannot know if there is wisdom to find in the shadows, or even that there are shadows.

I have noticed more the birds, it does not detract from them to know they are of one substance (turtles are close to the birds so says the science magazines) or that they are in a sense a complete and more advanced species than we for they can see four or more primary colors- exquisitely sensitive these creatures as if the soft shelled turtle laying her eggs can see me move high up on the bridge over the river before she scurries back to the water.  But is this all their life is about, these fowl with three chambered hearts and responsive to my five chamber eyes?  We too must perhaps scurry from prying eyes who in the viewing cannot really see us- who sell fear of some disease rather than sell the cure for the disease itself.

Of such creatures it is better to leave them to their own petty lives and purposes for theirs is something eternal to which is frozen all salvation.  Does the songbird know that it is a bird?  Can a hummingbird sing the song of the talons of the hawks and eagles?  How godlike to stop the great dam and bridge for the nesting of the swallows, how human to know when not to disturb nature when one had the ability and right to observed but from a distance.

* * * * *

No comments:

Post a Comment