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Curator of becoming, Artist, Writer, Urban Tiger
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    Montevideo (part 9)
    Project: Polytopia

    Now, when the tears find no ink but a keyboard to excite. Now, when the arch of life is eloquently stretched between Eros and Cantos. Now, when infinite hands are diffusing in the machine and log into inexcusable horizons. Now, when culture is extended across multiple revolutions and time zones. Now, while the odds are gathering a last resistance, the renaissance machines are replicating un-beheld. When the speed is clear and the sane-clock is ticking, memory holds just a vision. Now, the long tail of awakened-dawns kisses the plexus of conditions.

    In the corner of tomorrow a story is traveling in deep space carrying a broken image of man, at long last.

    Now, when the image of man belongs to no-one and no-thing, some call it freedom and some call it the death of man, but I am conditioned to see else and read just that; Auto-poiesis is metamorphosing into poetry of individuation, the specie of humans plotting not continuity and reproduction of sameness but a bare exposure of the sexuality of life.

    Now, a line of “otherness” is being crossed, and beside the complex sense of both vision and grieving that accompanies any serious crossing, that which is emerging and flaming is the necessity of being a human, at long last.

    Through the indefinite number of cracks that cross that complex image, life is flowing closer, but not only life, everything is flowing closer. Suddenly the layman is not a layman anymore, and the artist is not just an artist, suddenly one cannot lean anymore, but rather has to compose oneself within a multiplicity. Now, after the past century revolution of self, comes the evolution of Auto-Poiesis.

    Now, it is not just mortality that shapes the vision, as well indefinite time partakes in the shaping of consciousness. It is not only natural selection, man-made evolutive unrest partakes as well in the shaping of consciousness.

    Now, the human outline is becoming the Petri dish within which spawning is exploding. It will be an evolution of kinds; it is man that dies not humanity, it is humanness that opens its envelope and finds a synonym to life, and we are so young in mind.

    They say that all life emerges from one cell, and it will be said that all kinds emerge from one human form. And it is frightening; the idea that from my womb that which comes forth is not a reflection of me, but the potentiality to shape a kind. And our brains are recoiling; control, we must control the beast of kinds, but no, it is a moment shaped by uncontrolled powers, it is not just the energy locked in the atom that we unleashed, it is the energy of life, it is Eros with infinite hands playing in deep empty spaces of form that is unleashed. And we may need to let go for a duration.

    That which is changing the world and us is that everything becomes closer, so close that one needs to be a philosopher, a poet, a lover of life, no human can leave anymore what one is to casual storytellers. That which is changing is the closeness of it all, provoking a moment out of controls for each one to shape an image of human.

    Now, when everything becomes closer, it is the necessity of being a human that is shaping the future of consciousness.

    It is Now
    11:24/09/12/09/PSE
    To be continued..

    Image 1 - "Painting Pigeons" by Walton Ford's
    Image 2 - "Feeling Material" by Anthony Gromely
    Image 3 - "Angel of the North" by Anthony Gromely

    Wed, Dec 9, 2009  Permanent link
    Categories: Image of man, Auto-Poiesis
    Sent to project: Polytopia
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    Morningstar     Sat, Dec 12, 2009  Permanent link
    the beauty of this poetry so fit to the moment... at least in my mind:)
    the stretching of now and future and the composing of oneself in the multiplicity a matter of life and death... playing in the eros of beingness...
     
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