Should we writhe (with a mad-man’s certitude) ensnarled in a world that is only arbitrarily our own; preserving exaggerated grievances?

Often an effort is given to displaying grievances that can be disconcerting to those who know: at the center of it all, this world is suffering.  The grand indelicacy of  money protects (even projects) some with painless exposure, while others are obvious in their displayed pain.  Do they really hope that someone will give it permanence; protect it preserve it?

This is a problem here at the reunion of the anarchists and enfant terribles. Many  believe that the length they took to master the handiwork, the art construed and balanced by bodily actions, is freer (thereby greater) than that which is made static by the deeply indelicate demands of money or the shallow extravagance of the rational mind.  And yet their works are unattended, frozen into fragility, still slightly out of balance.

A cave or darkness, a frozen prairie, a singular forgotten place, can hold the mystery of a tragic personal memory, but more commonly, it is the psuedo-tragic constraints of the mundane. Some special reserved inaction that is to frozen to disrupt that little bit of the world tensed by the efforts.  This isn’t available to the explosive possibilities of more public problems, and yet remains an explosive contrivance in its’ own coiled fury and fragile, singular – oh so singular – character.

The anarchists are escape-delirious, the internal seething exploding desire to blow-up the mundane, going into the wild; and yet begging the peace of stasis.

Balance, balance would be nice if it did not contain with in it the potential of failure, the falling, the destruction; without that, it is not “in balance”.  Stasis, believed impervious to the forces ( also mysterious) that, with a sweep, would, for a moment, replace the static with balance before destruction (or even oblivion): or burst beyond the borderlands.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Such is that absurd world our enfant terribles, our emotive artistics, celebrate.

 

Next Saturday we consider moments: how long should thinking take place.