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Look Again. Documentation is Creation.
For better or worse, I present the images of my life.
There is a way of taking a picture, shooting a video or recording a sound where there is no difference between your thought and the file you make.
Sometimes you can see the pixels through the viewfinder.
It's letting the instrument of observation enter the practice of looking. It's taking pictures of the camera that takes pictures. It's allowing your sum focus to reside outside your head.
Maybe everything has already happened. Maybe it is all still happening. Maybe all things present, past and future coexist in simultaneous permanence. Perpetuity and consistency might be the same.
When the apparatus has achieved full integration, you will struggle against it and - maybe - learn to work with it.
The screen and the scope and the signal and the service.
A series of filters. That which was lived; That which was captured; That which was retrieved; That which is presented. You become a compiling unit chewing up the massive stream of happenings that you encounter.
But you gain perspective. Before long you understand the complex matrix of content loci and information syringes in our second-to-second lives.
The break. You see we are cross frequencies: matter in melody. All is comedy in brilliant color. You twist and crank and wind and wind and wind wind wind until the defragmentation of your soul is the pouring of Lego's from a Tupperware box.
It's that simple and obtuse.
Because if we plug in our psychic Game Genies into the console of reality and set our cheeky Avatars to 202-99-IHJK-XX08 [Infinite Ammo, Infinite Respawns] we'll shoot and we'll shoot and we'll shoot and we'll start to see this total awareness beyond our frail little tissue based beinghoods.
And then you're just also some dumb fuck, rolling your tongue on a jagged tooth while updating your blog. Maybe you're humming right now.
And then something else will happen and then you'll be here.
And this too, is past - but the past is still future to something else. So, too, is the absolute future the absolute past to the next time. And what is time but sorting system of the mind of the universe? And what is the universe but one in the many that make up an multiverse, omniverse, metaverse, or whatever we'd call the thing that lies outside?
Oh glee.
For in all it makes these single bits of color that coordinate our screens to reality sparkle the brighter. It makes the lines that define the squares of understanding important. It makes it such that static, the default of your device, all the more telling.
Look into the black of the image. Look beyond the defected code of the uploading utility to see the approximations of an organism who species is still early in evolution.
The digital living. The line we began and the line we are building still.
There is a way of taking a picture, shooting a video or recording a sound where there is no difference between your thought and the file you make.
Sometimes you can see the pixels through the viewfinder.
It's letting the instrument of observation enter the practice of looking. It's taking pictures of the camera that takes pictures. It's allowing your sum focus to reside outside your head.
Maybe everything has already happened. Maybe it is all still happening. Maybe all things present, past and future coexist in simultaneous permanence. Perpetuity and consistency might be the same.
When the apparatus has achieved full integration, you will struggle against it and - maybe - learn to work with it.
The screen and the scope and the signal and the service.
A series of filters. That which was lived; That which was captured; That which was retrieved; That which is presented. You become a compiling unit chewing up the massive stream of happenings that you encounter.
But you gain perspective. Before long you understand the complex matrix of content loci and information syringes in our second-to-second lives.
The break. You see we are cross frequencies: matter in melody. All is comedy in brilliant color. You twist and crank and wind and wind and wind wind wind until the defragmentation of your soul is the pouring of Lego's from a Tupperware box.
It's that simple and obtuse.
Because if we plug in our psychic Game Genies into the console of reality and set our cheeky Avatars to 202-99-IHJK-XX08 [Infinite Ammo, Infinite Respawns] we'll shoot and we'll shoot and we'll shoot and we'll start to see this total awareness beyond our frail little tissue based beinghoods.
And then you're just also some dumb fuck, rolling your tongue on a jagged tooth while updating your blog. Maybe you're humming right now.
And then something else will happen and then you'll be here.
And this too, is past - but the past is still future to something else. So, too, is the absolute future the absolute past to the next time. And what is time but sorting system of the mind of the universe? And what is the universe but one in the many that make up an multiverse, omniverse, metaverse, or whatever we'd call the thing that lies outside?
Oh glee.
For in all it makes these single bits of color that coordinate our screens to reality sparkle the brighter. It makes the lines that define the squares of understanding important. It makes it such that static, the default of your device, all the more telling.
Look into the black of the image. Look beyond the defected code of the uploading utility to see the approximations of an organism who species is still early in evolution.
The digital living. The line we began and the line we are building still.
Copyright
Ray Sumser 2008 Santa Cruz CA