The adjustments made in iPhoto to the photograph I took in the almost mystical morning yesterday perhaps show more clearly what I see, at least looking back and through the prism of mind, of thought and feeling and wishing. I'm wishing for a state of being that paints the world, "like this," Rumi is translated. I can hear Coleman Barks' resonant voice vibrant with knowing that crosses a decade or so of centuries and countries. It's about the transmission of civilization and consciousness and about moving toward beauty and peace.
I'm wondering about how a certain presumption of cognitive science unbalances our being so that peace cannot be advanced. When we attempt to bring digital composing into the landscape of a culture dominated by thinking in words and in words that are more like a lecture on regurgitating exact facts, what chance has imagination?
In reading Children's Picturebooks: The Art of Visual Storytelling, I'm stunned to find "there is always the possibility that art may be utterly stifled within the university atmosphere, that the creative impulse may be wholly obliterated by the pre-eminence of criticism and scholarship" from Ben Shahn's The Shape of Content, 1957!
It's like this is the day for liberation.
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