En-closure: Consequences of Consciousness?

As we are asked to wrap-up a presentation of the consequences of this class on our thoughts, I am discovering that it is quite impossible to enclose everything, as even one idea absorbed from the class has taken on a life of its own and proliferated like mad throughout my system (really, an idea is a like a parasite! :)).

But I have come back often to the idea of art as luxury in my reflections. Of all the organisms on this planet, humans are the only ones who waste--irreparably so because this waste is produced in excess, and so cannot escape its enclosure as waste (in nature, decomposition would return the elements of waste to a form better capable of interaction). Waste, however, is a byproduct of the excess/luxury/opulence on which humans thrive. Professor Moss brought up an interesting point in a blog post--that the remnants of the Big Bang are essentially just waste.


If one takes this perspective, then humanity currently resides in one big wasteland--a vision quite fitting to what I'm about to discuss.

Of all the organisms on the planet, humans are also the only ones who make art. Yes, art occurs in nature too without intention, but nature doesn't dwell on it...nature uses it for practical purposes of survival. To illustrate:



The intricacy of design on the butterfly and flower might merely be a genetic accident. Beauty here is a tool for physical survival--no more, no less ostentatious. The lithe movements of the cheetah might be described as dance by a human observer, but is merely (here's that word again) a byproduct of a physical adaptation, an optimization for a player in the game of surviving. (The fact that we can view life as a game is both a testament to our consciousness and the room that this consciousness creates for indulgence in such luxurious views.)

Humans hoard art--look at all the fine art museums, private collections, architectural flamboyance that will sacrifice function for aesthetic form, "haute couture." Compare the excessiveness, in style, color, function, most of all, to the natural designs above. These clothes and buildings actually make it harder for people to physically function. But they serve as viewing pleasure, aesthetic stimulation, a drug that humans need as much as food and water; indeed, to feel that they are alive, to strip down and roll in evidence of excess, evidence of waste--evidence of life.



Is this all a product of vanity, yet at the same time, a by-product of consciousness--the awareness that we are Alive, that we have created this system call Time that seems to be running away with our Lives? Because we are aware of such phenomena (and while our more scientifically primitive cousins doggedly go about their business of survival, unquestioning, unwondering, and changing only per chance of mutation), we must devise these systems, indeed, enclosures in order to make sense, in order to process the stimuli that evoke something more than flat images, sounds, smells, textures alone. This is because while we waste, we cannot stand the sight of, the smell of, the idea of waste and consequent decay (landfills are probably the most avoided places on earth); we must not waste the stimuli that come to us, nor the cognitive faculties granted to our species; time is of the essence, and every opportunity must be taken--a consequence of the consciousness of mortality, of inevitable insignificance--to process, to preserve; to slow time down, we escape into the timeless dimension provided by the junction of consciousness with unconsciousness. An example of this junction (a wormhole?) occurs in lucid dreaming. Here's how to do it!


Music, paintings, dance, poems, POAMs; art is not why, but how we live. Art is the locomotive, the machine, the engine that encloses us are we bring ourselves back into reality. It might be one way we transport a piece of the unconscious into conscious life. In this way, art is also a bridge, an integrative tool. Science studies the evidence of this process of art. Do we try to enclose our lives into the poams that we make? Make something permanent of a thought, a fear?

These systems we devise stabilize us, and help us deal with the pain of ephemerality and the constant apprehension that follows. We lug around heavy thought orbits in the intricate systems we build: religions, symphonies, novels, even the scientific method. Though science might study the process of art, it is art itself (is this a consequence of studying art, to become art yourself?). They (and almost any human device) share the common goal of survival. It is just that human survival entails so much of this excessive system devising, the excessive search for Closure because humans recognize, but cannot accept the fact that closure is quite impossible.

Art is a luxury, and luxury is necessary to human subsistence. We are hedonists--creatures of pleasure and comfort, always looking for ways to minimize the greater pain (sometimes we'll even use pain--excessively--to diminish pain). What is the goal in most peoples' lives? To find happiness or contentment, probably. But is that possible with the symptoms of our consciousness already drawing consequences as heavy as art and science? Locusts, lions, bees live to deliver genes. They too know, somewhere up the ladders of their DNA, that their form is not meant to persist, yet the only behavioral sign that belies this fact is the sometimes frantic mating an animal near its time will engage in:


Humans need to be enclosed in order to survive:






The womb, the houses we build, the relationships we forge (expanding our skin through contact with others), and the skull that encloses our brain--the embodiment of our physical selves and those other impalpable selves--are all necessary forms of organization, protection, separation. Symphonies, paintings, and poems serve a similar function, allowing humans not only to survive but to live; for to survive is to live, for a person--and therein lies the difference between humans and animals: for an animal, surviving pertains to the physical; for people, to survive is to take care of the both physical and of the mental/spiritual. The desire to live catalyzes the desire to indulge, to engage systems of excess.

I have brought in many concepts that have been revolving like horses around a merry-go-around for days in my mind. This presentation is far from clear (quite, rare indeed, though I'm certain I burnt something in the process...what is that smell? it smells like...waste!), and the exact relationship between all of these points of light is something that will evolve with the mind that encloses them; a process of excess, I'm sure. I feel like I keep bringing in ideas, creating new interactions without following other interactions all the way down. But is there an all-the-way-down? Perhaps, at least, I owe to the interaction, the spark, to rub the substances more against each, warming myself in the combustion of idea. Ideally, I would love to explore this idea through multiple media--film, audio, written poems, website-building; each poam through each medium contributes to a clearer picture. (the most waste i make, the more enlightened I am?!) Here, though, I and the ideas I express are confined, yet defined by the borders of the written word, still images, and short motion picture clips. Without confinement, there can be no definition, without definition, limited interaction. The shape of the fork must become clear before its tines can be admired, utilized, perhaps even broken.

In this post, and in this blog as a whole, I have (attempted to) explore the different forms a poam can take on, as well as the internal structure of a poam once it has taken on a particular form. The concept of the Limited Fork is exciting and stimulating, as the best ideas always are. The thought system is the product of an act of making itself, evidence of a creator's need to indulge in excess. I've looked through a certain window, and can only wonder now from which window I'll exit or enter again.

To close, for now, a representation--a mapping, a visual enclosure--of my brain on art, my brain fueling creation, in particular, self-creation: I create my brain--



Thank you, for this induction into the Limited Fork locomotive.