Of Question and Plume
05/19/2008 5:57 AM – 6:36 AM
And then I’m so damn afraid. I don’t know what is right anymore. I don’t know what’s true. I don’t know what’s worth the risk. I’m the servant that buried his coins, so scared of the wrath of the master that lent them. What, in the end, is worth the risk? What is that thing that’s worth dying for? What’s worth risking damnation? What can stand up to a lifetime of scrutiny?
I knew once what was worth the risk – my white plume. But now I can’t say that it matters as it once did. Well, it matters in moments when I feel strong and able. It matters when I’ve had a long, good run. It matters when I’ve written a few words that I think are true, that I actually believe. I don’t know what I believe anymore. Everything is in flux, nothing is solid. It feels as if it’s all just guessing without any solid evidence, just whispers of things that might or might not be the case, of no greater importance than celebrity gossip. Where is my spark? Where is that thing that withstands the tumults of existing as a conscious creature?
There has to be a point. There has to. The universe is too lazy to make a living thing that thinks. There is no cosmic need for me to be here, so I must have some reason that has nothing to do with a universal necessity. Something cannot come from nothing. Life cannot come from non-life. Contemplation cannot arise from the unthinking. To be the creature that I am, aware of myself and my death – I must exist for a purpose. In the past, I thought my reason reliable, but pushed far enough in any direction and you realize how much it is set in void. So faith, we must assume, but what faith? And what flavor of that faith? And how much dedication to that flavor? There must be a map. Existence does not flicker in a way that we can perceive, no matter what the swami screeches as he stretches out his hand to beg. The Matrix of reality cannot be escaped, only the constructs of man. And perhaps that is a better interpretation of that movie. Meta-Matrix speculation is fun but in the end it’s just a rather hackneyed fantasy story. How then should we live? And fourteen year later, I’m not sure I’m any closer than I was at the beginning of the questions. But I asked them. By God, I’ve asked them. I guess my plume is still there.
posted by Spike at 3:49 AM
2 Comments:
I beg to differ, good sir, about passion in long projects. imagine having to shade each scale on the skin of a lizard. if you have no passion, they will be rendered poorly. if you have no staying power, you will give up after 5 beautifully rendered scales.
It's like a marriage, where you must find small jolts of passion, small moments to push you along the path. Without passion art cannot breathe. And were you to talk to Messir Lloyd Wright, you'd see that he was very passionate about Falling Water, even to the end. Cold logic rarely creates the wonders of the universe. Passion is what makes them worthwhile.
I don't think we necessarily disagree on this. But, hmmm, perhaps a little. I see a difference between an exciting passion and a sustaining passion. I usually get a few small jolts when I'm writing, but it's the dedication to the project as a whole that sits me down to write. Using the marriage analogy, the difference between the romantic passion that gets you into the mess and the dedicated affection that keeps you there. It isn’t cold logic that I’m promoting but a sustainable warmth (as opposed to a blowy-uppy kind of heat).
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