Concupiscence Coriander, All Hallows 2018
Note to self (voice activated) - "Heavy anchors sunk deep in the mud below the sea." End Note. Tuesday, October 30, 2018
Ana Vidovic Plays Tárrega - Capricho Árabe. (n.d.).
I've observed for many years, awaiting witness, to the natural conclusions of sincere and thoughtful personal convictions professed by friends and acquaintances (that have made it a profession to do so - professors, preachers, artists, mad-persons, the like). At times even denying the natural desire to pull up anchor and drift stalwart away. The act of anchoring and observing akin to deliberate suspensions of belief(s) and a "what if you're right" approach to living, to thinking, to the inner free choice no system can oppress (abstract freedom), open to persuasion, because we both, I assume (and maybe that's a problem, to assume), we want the same thing - truth. In service to this desire (truth as a desire), I've practiced a kind of total acceptance of the other (in observation if not always so in action). A suspended disbelief and a patient observance of transmissions with a willingness to re-form my instruments and orientations ("indeed, you may be right and you may have been right all along about how the world is, how we think and act, and why it has formed this way", affirming your reactions, your scholarship, your lecture and reproach). If taken at its presented value and believed, as they are lived in the lives of those bearing a witness, and born of sound mind (or mad mind), contrary or otherwise, to my own observations (from the natural environment they've arrived), this has been a good strategy with acceptable consequence and tolerable risk (except when it hasn't been). Before that, as a youth, and for longer (since I still keep at it), I've waited (dropped anchor) to witness the same from music (Rock n' Roll, Metal, Jazz, Fusion, Human voice, cross-genre) and, to the same end, from stringed instruments of any kind, but mostly guitar because it's the instrument I know, from the classical canon. In all these years, and for all the flags I've raised or wanted to raise, there is not one who I could point to and say, "what a life lived!" Not more so (if I am to be most honest) than any of the lives opposing those beliefs and systems that are championed. Hitler still has his fame as much as, if not more than, the benevolent reactionaries. Among all the examples, there are no convictions from among the many that have translated into the ideal life, well lived. Not yet anyway, but there are those I've wanted to believe were such, and to whom I permitted more blindness than others (remembering now we are on the seas, with anchors tied or chained, sunk deep in the earthen floor below, to well beneath the buoyant, salty waters).
Here, now, on this All Hallows 2018, inundated from these currents and orientations, I see Christian reformists messages of Luther shaming the Catholic Church (legitimately), echoing still from the dawn of the 16th Century (in the year of our Lord) like it was yesterday, from among respective chosen stations. "I believe you", I tell my friends. "I believe you", I tell my heart or what I think of as my heart (other from the brain), so explored. Then the alarm rings, the hour moves back and another anchor drops, sinking fast to the dark floor beneath.
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| Diagram of various types of anchors, including Danforth, Hall, AC14, Spek, Kedge-Admirality, Buyers, Union, Pool, Stockless, KLIP, ZY-6,D'Hone, FOB , and Navy Stockless. Wikimedia Commons (author unknown, 2017). |
Ana Vidovic Plays Tárrega - Capricho Árabe. (n.d.).
I've observed for many years, awaiting witness, to the natural conclusions of sincere and thoughtful personal convictions professed by friends and acquaintances (that have made it a profession to do so - professors, preachers, artists, mad-persons, the like). At times even denying the natural desire to pull up anchor and drift stalwart away. The act of anchoring and observing akin to deliberate suspensions of belief(s) and a "what if you're right" approach to living, to thinking, to the inner free choice no system can oppress (abstract freedom), open to persuasion, because we both, I assume (and maybe that's a problem, to assume), we want the same thing - truth. In service to this desire (truth as a desire), I've practiced a kind of total acceptance of the other (in observation if not always so in action). A suspended disbelief and a patient observance of transmissions with a willingness to re-form my instruments and orientations ("indeed, you may be right and you may have been right all along about how the world is, how we think and act, and why it has formed this way", affirming your reactions, your scholarship, your lecture and reproach). If taken at its presented value and believed, as they are lived in the lives of those bearing a witness, and born of sound mind (or mad mind), contrary or otherwise, to my own observations (from the natural environment they've arrived), this has been a good strategy with acceptable consequence and tolerable risk (except when it hasn't been). Before that, as a youth, and for longer (since I still keep at it), I've waited (dropped anchor) to witness the same from music (Rock n' Roll, Metal, Jazz, Fusion, Human voice, cross-genre) and, to the same end, from stringed instruments of any kind, but mostly guitar because it's the instrument I know, from the classical canon. In all these years, and for all the flags I've raised or wanted to raise, there is not one who I could point to and say, "what a life lived!" Not more so (if I am to be most honest) than any of the lives opposing those beliefs and systems that are championed. Hitler still has his fame as much as, if not more than, the benevolent reactionaries. Among all the examples, there are no convictions from among the many that have translated into the ideal life, well lived. Not yet anyway, but there are those I've wanted to believe were such, and to whom I permitted more blindness than others (remembering now we are on the seas, with anchors tied or chained, sunk deep in the earthen floor below, to well beneath the buoyant, salty waters).
Here, now, on this All Hallows 2018, inundated from these currents and orientations, I see Christian reformists messages of Luther shaming the Catholic Church (legitimately), echoing still from the dawn of the 16th Century (in the year of our Lord) like it was yesterday, from among respective chosen stations. "I believe you", I tell my friends. "I believe you", I tell my heart or what I think of as my heart (other from the brain), so explored. Then the alarm rings, the hour moves back and another anchor drops, sinking fast to the dark floor beneath.
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| Gozzoli, B. (1468). Deutsch: Triumph des Hl. Thomas von Aquin über Averroes, Detail [Oil on panel| |
"with the tendency to evil (concupiscentia), which would be insurmountable." Catechism of the Catholic Church - IntraText Hapax - words occurring once. (n.d.). Retrieved October 31, 2018.
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