The painter Anselm Kiefer has painted bricks being sun-dried in the fields of India before they are fired in kilns. These bricks look like a pile of ruins from a long-forgotten structure. Only the bricks are not ruins. They are 'pregnant' bricks which have not yet been given a form to exist as. Nobody has yet asked these 'pregnant' bricks what they want to be. Even before they are 'born' these bricks take the form of the dying in a strange loop of existence. This beauty of a pregnant death foretells why death is inherent in all things born.
A blog for musings on esoteric aspects of Architecture and Philosophy in provocative chunks
The Chorus and the Weave: A Non-Duality Without a Ground
Imagine a chorus. Many voices are sounding together. Each voice is distinct: this one bright, that one grave, another barely a breath. Yet w...
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The fundamental problem of any discussion of Metaphysics is the definition of the subject matter. The generally understood definition of Met...
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When one ponders a simple operation such as cutting, one has to think about what came first: the desire to perform the operation of c...
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Ode to La Ribaute (a tribute to Anselm Kiefer) Will grass grow over my cities? Will knowledge sprout from lead? Can anything grow on my ...
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