Howling to the Moon
By William Markiewicz
This collection has a story similar to my "EXTRACTS OF EXISTENCE." When I accumulated the aphorisms that formed "Extracts" I didn't know what the next step would be. I thought: "so many bricks, and I don't know what house to build!" until I discovered that the aphorisms arranged themselves into chapters. So a book appeared as if it had always existed! At the same time, I was writing these disconnected thoughts and I knew that they could not be presented to the readers ‘as is’. Is there a way to show simultaneous communication-non communication? With animals in mind, I found the answer: Howling to the moon!
‘Howling to the moon’ is the perfect expression for the connection of the disconnected, from sounds to thoughts. It approaches surrealism, though it is less abstract than classic surrealism. Surrealism is nothing but an expression of the entanglement of connections impossible to grasp through intelligent analysis. "Crazy", they must be, because logic, which communicates the basic cause-effect relationship, is not equipped to perceive all the interior realities. Surrealism, brother of creativity, is a liberating monologue of mind growing like little flowers from the crevices of the hard rock of our day to day reality. The rest I leave to the reader’s judgment.
- You're predominantly in the company of yourself. Only happiness is a uniting factor within yourself; lack of happiness requires analysis, as in preparation for battle. Not objectivity of situation but subjectivity of its importance matters. Not youth/old age but your youth/old age. Not life/death but your life/death; in an individualistic world, individualistic responsibility.
- Each morning I enter the niche formed for me by destiny. Within us we carry the exterior world, not the contrary. So, as uninvolved with my boredom as I am uninvolved with my dreams, I'm a ship carrying what's in me. There is also a private interior in me - the last redoubt of freedom with all the good and bad it holds. As the wind and techtonic forces provoke the ocean's waves, so my automatic thoughts have multiple origins.
- Don't look for conclusions; you won’t know if there is sense and direction, in other words -- destiny. Be observer, not judge. Watching Shakespeare will not make you Shakespeare. The stem of life supports you and you manipulate it the way you want and can. Nobody will prompt you. The first importance to know is not where you are headed but to keep your hands on the steering wheel. Remember you fool -- the ship is the most important.
- Don’t learn how to disengage but rather learn how to catch yourself by the neck. Also, one has to know not only how to dominate oneself but how to listen to oneself.
- The mosaic is dance and struggle -- without the mosaic, no opposites, just one continuous soup. Existence manifests itself at its edges. Everything must have its opposite. A luminous universe would be as bare as total darkness. If the world were meant to be struggle-free, God wouldn't have created Satan.
- I’m lying down and in this horizontal gate to nonexistence I look toward the past. Some parts I lived, others I endured, still others I observed as in a shop's window. If, in whatever it is, you would like to find yourself, not only in your passing moods, then the urge appears: be proud you knight of life. If you are a knight, build a life. You thought that you'd build a palace on the ice; the palace is not finished and the ice thaws. If reality kills, then through inclination keep contact with life. Choose, not realism, but inclination, because inclination chose you.
- Why are ideals unreachable? Perhaps because everything contains its opposite? Blessed may be those who, in the middle of the way, can grasp the totality of the picture, meaning the truth. And perhaps you reach perfection by act rather than by experience. And inspiration? Maybe you catch perfection by act not by bliss.
- I look with melancholy as the particles of my participation in the world's structure fall like petals from a flower, and what remains with me is observation (painting), analysis (writing), and, from time to time, sausage with beer (my preferred). Perhaps the world forces me to be a solitary aquarium but I'm not made to be a hermit, but to march in the cavalcade of humanity, in m y p l a ce, even if I have to live only a moment.
- Perhaps the world serves you mostly to enhance your interior wealth? Remember that you're an aquarium, a creation of millions of years of evolution, and you only select from the wealth that surrounds you; you warm yourself in your own interior warmth called optimism. After millions of years of evolution the world did its job; you're on your own. Are you an amoeba with no exoderm? Still, there remains an information gap; when are we riding perfectly on the world like a horseman on a horse? How do we know if we’ve just added something or if we are really completing something? When we choke, is it from lack of air or because we ask too much? Where to draw the line? On limited ground we can manipulate at will, meaning to go far with small steps. Sometimes, in the worst case, we take infinitely small steps toward infinity, meaning, as long as life lasts.
- If stability were the only criteria of value, then which magic would have meaning, facing death? No magic will light the burned out lamp. Even if I cease to exist, the moment I existed will be mine forever. Time and space belong to nobody, what is in them -- to everybody.
- Character/personality: what triggers reaction from inside. How and in which moment does time change into value? How not to crumble into invisible dust in each moment? Which experience dominates in each moment? How to transform no-fear of life to no-fear of death and vice versa?
- In the void, the devil soars. If you have the devil as your valet, you're sucked into the void and the enigma remains -- which world will emerge from it; those from up -- down, those from down – up, those from skies – into abyss, those from earth – suspended, those from fire -- in waters, those from waters – burned ... Longing to be back in intelligent design? Perhaps the universe is contained in a small recipient ad infinitum and we have all the answers within us. Don't make a face at the rain because it falls.
- I need other outlets... I confront strange physics and strange chemistry; no clues. Nothing that pleases nor displeases. Like the cloud in the sky: does anybody ever ask if it wants to exist?
- First came life -- we don't know how.Then came reaction/behaviour -- we don't know how. Then came subconscious/superconscious -- we don't know how. Then came quantum/participation -- we don't know how. And this huge structure rests on the foundations of particles of matter (?).
- The artist is horse, the craft -- his way, and art -- the verdict. Run, horse -- run -- with horse’s elan -- O power -- expressed with beauty! The goal of the philosopher is sensuous, not intellectual, not cerebral, because philosophy aims for 'how to feel satisfaction.’ The meaning of art is our biological reaction to a certain order. Artist, art is not your concern; do your job, i.e., your craft. Give yourself to the conditions in which you are -- you have nothing else at your disposal. It doesn't matter what you choose, important is what/who chooses you. You revolt against life -- you live. You revolt against death -- you die.
"Howling to the Moon -- 2"
"Howling to the Moon -- 3"
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