Bloomsday as bouquet of selves

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An array of influences may mirror the furthering of myself relative
to their constellating (as if their cohering emerges from their regioning), not clearly me constellating their concerted appealing relative to myself (otherwise as if I’m the given center or basis of their cohering).

Our array’s “as if” self-constellating becomes its own emergent centripetality drawing my growth centrifugally into trans-horizonal appreciations (even awe).

Like the manifoldness of James Joyce’s Ulysses, emergent proteany belongs to us in our regioning, though of course I selected the modes of engagement brought into blooming, and though I’m the sole witness of our giving way.

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for better being

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“Cohering lightness of preferring better being” may sound frivolous, but…well, I trust you’ll enjoy it all (a set of six postings), linked from
a new main page for my endless Project.

Soon, the “cohering lightness” set will move to a separate page (I’ll revise this posting), and the new Project home page will gradually become a list of links to other pages, like the previous era “during recent years” mentioned there.

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spring 2023

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I expect to post a lot this coming week, by Tuesday, June 6.

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May 19

I’m really close to having lots of new discussions to share frequently: I’ve settled on 38 topical entrances (focal concepts or conceptual rubrics) for developing online hundreds of pages of discussion (prospecting, analysis, expansive audacity, pragmatic thinking, fun) over the coming year (or two...or three...).

expressions

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I know the name of very few varieties of flowers, but I’m sometimes fascinated that a field of the same variety of flower—or a flowering bush or tree—has variety among the blossoms.

Biologists call it “phenotypic” differences of genotypic expressions.

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interfacial daze

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I’m burned out for tonight.

The past week, I’ve done several discursive emails to others: on philo-
sophical politics, practicalities of educational reform, prospecting democratic education; how will Biden seek to counter authoritarian appeal…; and, offline, adding notes on pluralist truth, realism, value,….

You’re so glad to know.

night note

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I don’t forget that We all ultimately belong together as Earthlings somehow Of the cosmos.

But, conceptualizing that “Of” is ultimately challenging—yet not fundamentally meta-physical. The miracle is Us: capability of minds is the wondrouns mystery.

halcyon days

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Long emails to others (friends, contacts, the New York Times—Ha!—can be so fruitful. The relationship is evincive—often more than an anonymous audience of standard writing.

But the result isn’t easily transposed to blog postings, because directly shared context can avoid the kind of explication that writing to the ether needs to consider.

And long streams of thought and allusive reference to the other’s streams of thought can easily go on and on, as if in a trance.

Afterward, transposing that for a public feels invasive, if not exploitive.

an offroad moment of defense

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Noting playful resignation toward others’ low interest in technical enchantments should belong to anyone drawn into a specialty, best masked genuinely by giving time to talk/write about those special things to whatever degree an interested person wants.

Doctors of medicine standardly explain client situations patiently until the patient client’s confusion or dismay (or panic, etc.) returns to trust, and one moves on to what’s next to be done.

The scientific writer sketches a landscape of figurative explanation for phenomena which are mathematical, biophysical, etc., at a degree suitable for a typical subscriber. Then, the reader moves on to another page.

road note

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My playful stance toward others’ wanting complex understanding easily masks my resignation toward normal aversion to a path which gets difficult.

Not that I expect “you” to tag along the road with me; I just wish others’ apparent interest in understanding what’s appealing to me didn’t wane so quickly.

But, all in all, I don’t mind. I’ve always felt I’m on my own, as they say—original? I don’t presume. Idiosyncratic? I hope not.

Fortunately, I have a healthy sense of humor.

days go by

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Today, Earth has rounded the sun full circle since Putin began his 19th century thrust into Ukraine via 20th century toys of slaughter and waves of Russian boys who slaughter on command like Nazi camp guards, succeeded by more hordes of boys now shoved into being slaughtered, while precisely-aimed  missiles target Ukrainian families.

A more policy-oriented attitude is expressed by me tonight at the NYTimes here.

winter 2023

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I haven’t made time for a worthwhile update for tomorrow. Sorry.
I’m doing difficult conceptual work which doesn’t yet have a casual online mode.

My harping about humanity in recent weeks has been to clarify a practical background (“What’s the point?”) for upcoming conceptual discussions.

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Feb. 3

After a week and a half, I can now sneeze without feeling stabbed. Meanwhile, I’ve gotten lots of desk work done (sneezed rarely), though I’ve moved around like an old guy near death, afraid to breath deeply, unable to sleep on my left side, pained to reach for anything, abused by my rib cage when I walk, and so on.

So, on. I have lots of stuff to share, but nothing yet ready to post.

an horizon of sensibility

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I’ve combined (1) links to a few recent comments by me at NY Times articles, (2) a few links to earlier related postings, and (3) a short narrative about salient themes, titled “staying oriented by the better sense of Our humanity.”

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Fall. Stand. Go on.

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Standing on a relatively high hill above Berkeley again (nightly), viewing S.F. miles away across the bay, the tiny presence of everything distantly lit up is about itself, displayed without regard for being seen—and without regard for what’s adjacent.

Things are there; buildings are there. Lines of cars (ants of light),  apparently inch across the Bay Bridge, drivers and passengers oblivious to other ants in other bubbles of self possession.

Here in Berkeley, life goes on, like any town. Structures persist. Strangers pass on sidewalks as if each is passing no one. If you suddenly face emergency, someone may stop to notice, maybe help because they’re hit with risk of guilt about their general lack of care. Otherwise, the stranger doesn’t exist.

This time of month, the moon shows itself, as if there’s to be some full significance of being there.

conceptual prospecting can be very practical

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My sense of “wholly flourishing humanity” gathers themes from the two previous discussions in a progressively practical way.

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some aspects of evolving conceptuality

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In “terms of venturing,” I’m starting a more-rigorous path, which has been implicit to earlier prospecting.

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humbly marking a new year for humanity

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We grow up, achieve a lot (at best), pay forward (please), and move on—maybe contributing to others’ lives.

Time tells. Learning never ends.

Anyway, my map is clear to me now, after some years of somewhat improvising, like hiking difficult hills to prepare for a high climb together.

I feel ready—audacious and shameless.

I know, Alice

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The writer easily feels being too many mirrors of others’ “writing” you into their lives, not only concealing you from them—by their unwitting need for you to be a mirror of their sense of self in their own lives—but also putting you into an immense loneliness of plural being.  

So, creative characterization may be not only art, bur therapeutic in ways which few others understand.  

True love sees the plurality of you as your authemtic manifold of being with others as oneSelf, which best friends of youth, then True loves, cherish purely.  

Though suffering the end of that is cause for “endless” mourning, art can turn longing into lasting gratitude for trust and love you were lucky to have lived.

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autumn 2022

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End of semester. The “children” are returning to where they came from. The quiet around the area outside returns the street to being a neighbor-
hood. I feel a faint thrill along with faint melancholy about the turn of
the year.

This period of weeks has long been an open mystery about what the annual change of seasons will evince for writing. I don’t know now whether or not I’ll have new material to share before early January. I may suddenly want to add a lot. Probably not—or maybe.

Anyway, I’ve been doing a lot of writing offline, so I expect even better during the weeks ahead.

I’m happy.

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mirror of a musement

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The senses of creativity I’ve improvised during the past decade were always afterthoughts irt work that evinced the thoughts. Wondering about creativity itself is no source of creative work. Creativity doesn’t emerge from a conception of creativity.

Then, concentrating on cohering it all doesn’t lead to more creative work other than the coherence being creative (or meta-creative). So,
a creative approach to understanding creativity may emerge.

The senses of you as muse I’ve improvised during the past decade were always preludes to work that resulted. Prospecting you as such was an afterthought to the mirroring which you inspired. But, dwelling in that did lead to more musing.

So, love of your musement was creative.

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I eat well today.

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But I see a news story about “food insecurity” in “our” wealthy U.S.
I recall a recent report about African famine due to climate change; or desperate survivors of barbarous shelling of Kiev, which cloud my eyes with tears.

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