Quetzal Serpent

 " And then the earth arose because of them, it was simply their word that brought it forth. For the forming of the earth they said "Earth." It arose suddenly, just like a cloud, like a mist, now forming, unfolding.

...

This is the account of when all is still silent and placid. All is silent and calm. Hushed and empty is the womb of the sky. These, then, are the first words, the first speech. There is not yet one person, one animal, bird, fish, crab, tree, rock, hollow, canyon, meadow, or forest. All alone the sky exists. The face of the earth has not yet appeared. Alone lies the expanse of the sea, along with the womb of all the sky. There is not yet anything gathered together. All is at rest. Nothing stirs. All is languid, at rest in the sky. There is not yet anything standing erect. Only the expanse of the water, only the tranquil sea lies alone. There is not yet anything that might exist. All lies placid and silent in the darkness, in the night. All alone are the Framer and the Shaper, Sovereign and Quetzal Serpent, They Who Have Borne Children and They Who Have Begotten Sons. Luminous they are in the water, wrapped in quetzal feathers and cotinga feathers. Thus they are called Quetzal Serpent. In their essence, they are great sages, great possessors of knowledge."

- Popol Vuh

Plato's Cave

"Plato's Cave" Portfolio

"Before all the wondrous shows of the widespread space around him, what living, sentient thing loves not the all-joyous light - with its colors, its rays and undulations, its gentle omnipresence in the form of the wakening Day? [...] Aside I turn to the holy, unspeakable, mysterious Night. Afar lies the world - sunk in a deep grave - waste and lonely is its place. [...] More heavenly than those glittering stars we hold the eternal eyes which the Night hath opened within us. Farther they see than the palest of those countless hosts - needing no aid from the light, they penetrate the depths of a loving soul - that fills a loftier region with bliss ineffable. [...] No longer was the Light the abode of the gods, and the heavenly token of their presence - they drew over themselves the veil of the Night. The Night became the mighty womb of revelations - into it the gods went back - and fell asleep, to go abroad in new and more glorious shapes over the transfigured world. "

- Novalis (1772 - 1801)
Hymns to the Night

Postscript. Clicking on the image at the top will take you to a new Plato's Cave portfolio in my web gallery. For those of you who have not already guessed at how these images have been created (I posted the first in the series a few weeks ago with the heading, Platonic Forms), the title (and reference) will be obvious from the process: I shine thin beams of light (using one, two, or three flexible gooseneck LEDs with magnetic bases secured to a metal plate for stability) through a wide assortment of glass and acrylic geometric forms (squares, prisms, pyramids, circles, spheres, etc.) ranging in size from a quarter of an inch to about three or four inches and of varying translucency and color (the color of most forms depends on the direction of light that hits their surface), and photograph the most "pleasing combinations" of the resulting clusters of lights and shadows that appear on a black matte board pitched vertically some distance beyond where the LEDs are stationed. Note that while the images look noisy, it is not actual "noise" you are seeing, but rather the impression of noise due to the collective specular and diffuse reflections of light off the matte board's imperfectly speckled surface. 

Apart from my delight in being able to use this technique to explore a part of the abstract aesthetic latent space pioneered by László Moholy-Nagy, Itten, Kandinsky, Klee, Robert & Sonia Delaunay, and explored by my dad in his later years (albeit, in my case, on a woefully amateurish level compared to these extraordinary artists), I am intrigued conceptually, philosophically even, by how blatantly it blurs the distinction between traditional art and photography. I say this because for this series photography plays only a minor (and least important) role! Arranging and discovering a "pleasing configuration" of lights and forms requires a lot of time and patience. It typically takes me about 20-30 min to find a single geometry worth taking an image of. Indeed, the process of choosing the type and number of shapes, adjusting the light's intensity, direction, and the beam size, and making the myriad small changes (during which I often have to start from scratch because an arrangement is simply "not working") needed to gradually sculpt (reveal?) a "pleasing geometry" - for which the final "shot" is almost an afterthought -  is arguably more akin to making art than doing photography!

My lifelong fascination with the blurred distinction between art and photography has directly fueled my experiments in abstraction, wherein I deliberately try to tease apart (disentangle?) the creative tension between finding abstract patterns vs. creating them. Individual projects all follow their own style and rhythm. For example, for my Synesthscapes series, I search for patterns in what are essentially "fixed" environments (e.g., natural light refracting/reflecting through a rum bottle); for my Swirls, Whorls, and Tendrils series, I create singular "worlds" made up of ink and water, which I then photograph whatever time-slice of it proves to be sufficiently interesting; my perpetual winter passion to find ice abstracts consists of exactly that, finding patterns that nature herself has already produced; my light abstracts emerge from fixed geometries of light filaments and intentional random camera movements, wherein I decide whether an image is "good enough" to keep only after taking the photograph; and Cymatiscapes require little more of me than to choose a vessel type and size (e.g., a small soy sauce dish) and a vibration frequency before clicking the shutter in my camera's burst mode; I tend to think of this series (which I love!) as neither art nor photography (at least in the traditionally creative sense) and merely as an archive of my having observed something interesting. But, compared to all of these earlier experiments, the process of creating - literally, creating - images for Plato's Cave is obviously on an entirely different level! Of course, in the most fundamental sense, distinctions between art and photography (and, as someone has commented below) between art and life, are not nust blurred, they are entirely illusory.

Luminous Mind

 "Luminous, monks, is the mind.
And it is freed from incoming defilements.
The well-instructed disciple of the noble ones
discerns that as it actually is present,
which is why I tell you that—
for the well-instructed disciple of the noble ones
—there is development of the mind."

- Aṅguttara Nikāya
Luminous Mind

Pointillist Flecks

"...the notion of depth is toyed with and finally subverted, until Klimt reduced the volumes of terrain to a series of flattened pieces comprised of a multitude of pointillist flecks. The sky disappears almost entirely from his compositions, as do, with a few exceptions, traditional methods of illusionism like linear and atmospheric perspective. [...] The paintings of the mid-aughts are gorgeous tapestries of narrow value range and scintillating color. They bear a superficial resemblance to French Post-Impressionism, but the offbeat elegance and nervous energy are unique to Klimt."

- LINEA, review of Klimt: Landscapes
at Neue Galerie New York (2024)

Ephel Duath

"Far above the Ephel Duath in the West the night-sky was still dim and pale. There, peering among the cloud-wrack above a dark tor high up in the mountains, Sam saw a white star twinkle for a while. The beauty of it smote his heart, as he looked up out of the forsaken land, and hope returned to him. For like a shaft, clear and cold, the thought pierced him that in the end the Shadow was only a small and passing thing: there was light and high beauty for ever beyond its reach."

-  J.R.R. Tolkien (1892 - 1973)
The Return of the King
Sam, Chapter II: The Land of Shadow

Aboriginal Dreaming

"Although The Dreaming conjures up the notion of a sacred, heroic time of the indefinitely remote past, such a time is also, in a sense, still part of the present. One cannot ‘fix’ The Dreaming in time: it was, and is, everywhen. We should be very wrong to try to read into it the idea of a Golden Age, or a Garden of Eden, though it was an Age of Heroes, when the ancestors did marvelous things that men can no longer do [...] Clearly, The Dreaming is many things in one. Among them, a kind of narrative of things that once happened; a kind of charter of things that still happen; and a kind of logos or principle of order transcending everything significant for Aboriginal man. [...] These tales are neither simply illustrative nor simply explanatory, they are fanciful and poetic in content because they are based on visionary and intuitive insights into mysteries; and, if we are ever to understand them, we must always take them in their complex content."

- W.E.H. Stanner (1905 - 1981)

Unconscious Activation

"The creative process, so far as we are able to follow it at all, consists in the unconscious activation of an archetypal image, and in elaborating and shaping this image into the finished work. By giving it shape, the artist translates it into the language of the present, and so makes it possible for us to find our way back to the deepest springs of life."

- C. G. Jung (1875-1961)

Spiritual Harmony

"The more abstract is form, the more clear and direct is its appeal. In any composition the material side may be more or less omitted in proportion as the forms used are more or less material, and for them substituted pure abstractions, or largely dematerialized objects. The more an artist uses these abstracted forms, the deeper and more confidently will he advance into the kingdom of the abstract. And after him will follow the gazer at his pictures, who also will have gradually acquired a greater familiarity with the language of that kingdom.

...

Form alone, even though totally abstract and geometrical, has a power of inner suggestion. A triangle (without the accessory consideration of its being acute- or obtuse-angled or equilateral) has a spiritual value of its own. In connection with other forms, this value may be somewhat modified, but remains in quality the same. The case is similar with a circle, a square, or any conceivable geometrical figure.

...

Every form is as sensitive as a puff of smoke, the slightest breath will alter it completely. This extreme mobility makes it easier to obtain similar harmonies from the use of different forms, than from a repetition of the same one; though of course an exact replica of a spiritual harmony can never be produced. So long as we are susceptible only to the appeal of a whole composition, this fact is of mainly theoretical importance. But when we become more sensitive by a constant use of abstract forms (which have no material interpretation) it will become of great practical significance."

- Wassily Kandinsky (1866 - 1944)

Primordial Ideas

"Colors are primordial ideas,
children of the aboriginal colorless light
and its counterpart, colorless darkness Light,
that first phenomenon of the world, reveals
to us the spirit and the living soul
of the world through colors.

...

Color is life, for a world without color seems dead.
As a flame produces light, light produces color.
As intonation lends color to the spoken word,
color lends spiritually realized sound to a form.
...
Between black and white there throbs the
universe of chromatic phenomena."

- Johannes Itten (1888 - 1967)

More is Diferent

"At each level of complexity entirely new properties appear, and the understanding of the new behaviors requires research which I think is as fundamental in its nature as any other. That is, it seems to me that one may array the sciences roughly linearly in a hierarchy, according to the idea: The elementary entities of science X obey the laws of science Y. But this does not at all imply that science X is 'just' science Y. At each stage entirely new laws, concepts, and generalizations are necessary, requiring inspiration and creativity to just as great a degree as in the previous one."

- Philip W. Anderson (1923 - 2020)
More is Different

Forces Eternal

 "Here doth Nature close the ring of her forces eternal;
Yet doth a new one, at once, cling to the one gone before,
So that the chain be prolonged for ever through all generations,

And that the whole may have life, e'en as enjoyed by each part.
Now, my beloved one, turn thy gaze on the many-hued thousands
Which, confusing no more, gladden the mind as they wave.
Every plant unto thee proclaimeth the laws everlasting.
Every floweret speaks louder and louder to thee."

- Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749 - 1832)
 The Metamorphosis of Plants

Repetition of Sensations

"Everything which we observe in nature imprints itself uncomprehended and unanalyzed in our percepts and ideas which then, in their turn, mimic the processes of nature in their most general and most striking features.

...

It is a well-known fact that some objects please us, while others do not. Generally speaking, anything that is constructed according to fixed and logically followed rules, is a product of tolerable beauty. We see thus nature herself, who always acts according to fixed rules, constantly producing such pretty things.

...

A rule always presupposes a repetition. Repetitions, therefore, will probably be found to play some important part in the production of agreeable effects. Of course, the nature of agreeable effects is not exhausted by this. Furthermore, the repetition of a physical event becomes the source of agreeable effects only when it is connected with a repetition of sensations."

- Ernst Mach (1838 - 1916)
Popular Scientific Lectures

Color Bridge

"I believe I have already suggested that color is the most obvious bridge between emotion and perception, that is, between subjective experience of the psyche and quality objective in nature. Both light up only between the extremes of light and darkness, and in their reciprocal interplay. Thus, outward the rainbow - or, if you prefer it, the spectrum - is the bridge between dark and light, but inwardly the rainbow is, what the soul itself is, the bridge between body and spirit, between earth and heaven."

- Owen Barfield (1898 - 1997)

Mind Over matter

"The very act of thinking involves the redistribution of atoms, specifically the transference of mental information via mRNA (messenger RNA) in the neurons to protein chains at the ends of the dendrites where the new memories are held. Thus, the more a person uses his mind, the more protein in his dendrites and the more complex his brain. According to this view, 'all thought is psychokinetic' because the very act of thinking, by definition, involves a mental event being changed into a physical one: a thought becomes a memory, that is, mind over matter."

- Marc Seifer (1948 - )

Uncanny Witchery

"November — with uncanny witchery in its changed trees. With murky red sunsets flaming in smoky crimson behind the westering hills. With dear days when the austere woods were beautiful and gracious in a dignified serenity of folded hands and closed eyes — days full of a fine, pale sunshine that sifted through the late, leafless gold of the juniper-trees and glimmered among the grey beeches, lighting up evergreen banks of moss and washing the colonnades of the pines."

- Lucy Maud Montgomery (1874 - 1942)

Autumn Tree

"Every leaf speaks bliss to me,
fluttering from the autumn tree."

- Emily Brontë (1818 - 1848)

As Long as Autumn Lasts

 "As long as autumn lasts,
I shall not have hands,
canvas and colors enough
to paint the beautiful
things I see.

- Vincent Van Gogh (1853 - 1890)

Sensations In The Mind

"They who assert that figure, motion, and the rest of the primary or original qualities do exist without the mind in unthinking substances, do at the same time acknowledge that colors, sounds, heat cold, and suchlike secondary qualities, do not--which they tell us are sensations existing in the mind alone, that depend on and are occasioned by the different size, texture, and motion of the minute particles of matter. This they take for an undoubted truth, which they can demonstrate beyond all exception. Now, if it be certain that those original qualities are inseparably united with the other sensible qualities, and not, even in thought, capable of being abstracted from them, it plainly follows that they exist only in the mind. But I desire any one to reflect and try whether he can, by any abstraction of thought, conceive the extension and motion of a body without all other sensible qualities. For my own part, I see evidently that it is not in my power to frame an idea of a body extended and moving, but I must withal give it some color or other sensible quality which is acknowledged to exist only in the mind. In short, extension, figure, and motion, abstracted from all other qualities, are inconceivable. Where therefore the other sensible qualities are, there must these be also, to wit, in the mind and nowhere else."

- George Berkeley (1685-1753)
A Treatise Concerning the Principles of Human Knowledge

Dancing Soul

"One Autumn day I was in a park and I looked at a very small beautiful leaf, it’s color was almost red. It was barely hanging o the branch nearly ready to fall down. I spent a long time with it and I asked the leaf a number of questions. I found out the leaf had been a mother to the tree.

We usually think that the tree is the mother and the leaves are just children but as I looked at the leaf I saw that the leaf is also a mother to the tree. The sap that the roots take up is only water and minerals, not sufficient to nourish the tree, so the tree distributes the sap to the leaves, and the leaves transform the rough sap into an elaborated sap with the help of the sun and air and then send it back to the tree for nourishment. Therefore leaves are also a mother to the tree.

I asked the leaf whether it was scared because it was autumn and the other leaves were falling. The leaf told me, 'No. During the whole spring and summer I was very alive. I worked hard and helped nourish the tree, and much of me is in the tree. I am not limited by this form. I am the whole tree, and when I go back to the soil, I will continue to nourish the tree. As I leave this branch and float to the ground, I will wave to the tree and tell her, ‘I will see you again very soon….'

And after a while I saw the leaf leave the branch and float down to the soul dancing joyfully. Because as it floated it saw itself already there in the tree. It was so happy. I have a lot to learn from the leaf because it is not afraid – it knew nothing can be born and nothing can die.'"

- Thich Nhat Hanh (1926 - 2022)

Curious Stillness of Autumn

"The wind swept down the rows, next morning,
swaying the branches of the trees,
and the windfalls dropped to
the ground with soft thuds.
Frost was in the wind,
and between gusts the curious
stillness of autumn."

- John Steinbeck (1902 - 1968)

"Although leaves remained on the beeches and the sunshine was warm, there was a sense of growing emptiness over the wide space of the down. The flowers were sparser. Here and there a yellow tormentil showed in the grass, a late harebell or a few shreds of purple bloom on a brown, crisping tuft of self-heal. But most of the plants still to be seen were in seed. Along the edge of the wood a sheet of wild clematis showed like a patch of smoke, all its sweet-smelling flowers turned to old man’s beard. The songs of the insects were fewer and intermittent. Great stretches of the long grass, once the teeming jungle of summer, were almost deserted, with only a hurrying beetle or a torpid spider left out of all the myriads of August. The gnats still danced in the bright air, but the swifts that had swooped for them were gone and instead of their screaming cries in the sky, the twittering of a robin sounded from the top of a spindle tree. The fields below the hill were all cleared. One had already been plowed and the polished edges of the furrows caught the light with a dull glint, conspicuous from the ridge above. The sky, too, was void, with a thin clarity like that of water. In July the still blue, thick as cream, had seemed close above the green trees, but now the blue was high and rare, the sun slipped sooner to the west and, once there, foretold a touch of frost, sinking slow and big and drowsy, crimson as the rose hips that covered the briar. As the wind freshened from the south, the red and yellow beech leaves rasped together with a brittle sound, harsher than the fluid rustle of earlier days. It was a time of quiet departures, of the sifting away of all that was not staunch against winter.'"

- Richard Adams (1920 - 2016)
Watership Down