As bleak as it may seem, there is a truth in this contradiction. I think many might see this as an opportunity to write something profound, which might explore some grand ideas and conversations regarding the topic of this symposium. At the same time, there is the aspect within which feels it is all in vain. I am certain great things will come. Our minds shall be stimulated, our eyes placed upon new objects and images-- all rewarding and thought-provoking. However, there is an awareness that it will be brief. We will come, listen, partake, be inspired, exchange information and then it will be over. It is a kind of ritual in itself, the planning and preparation the unknowable potentialities of three days and then it shall be over. The idea will be finished and we move forward to the next subject.
If you find yourself already reading this and critiquing the very nature of this correspondence, then you will not be satisfied. There is no purpose in this writing, other than to provide some subtle subtext to a much larger experience and story. Here will be no grand ideas. Rather this will be a space which acknowledges the mundane and embraces the comfort of seeing oneself simply. There is a greatness in being small, quiet and unmotivated. I have always admired the clown, this character has obsessed me for some time. There seems to be deeply embedded in this character a nature to fight away hopelessness and a rebellion that physicalizes the struggle to fight against the emptiness of life which seems endless.
There are many thoughts that I will share here, images which have moved me but they seem more to be encased in a deeper tragedy, in conflict and acceptance that we are in our deepest moments suffering while simultaneously in awe.
Ah to be a zen monk. What freedom in racking leaves and washing dishes relinquishing all desire to be anything but nothing.
