Mapmaker, Mapmaker, Make me a Map

Ephemeral distance here. Now I'm aware of it, now I'm not.

Black on white. Letters, words, sentences, paragraphs, pages, chapters book. Or abstracting and deconstructing top down, we have ideas, language, black and white.

Strange serendipity and juxtaposition last nite as I moved from black on white to stereo in color. Just about giving up on the book's concepts of realism vs idealism - concepts that only partly gel for me, then turning on the tube and seeing the reality of the ideas played out in a PBS piece about the US civil rights movement. Realism vs. Idealism. Idealism played out in Realism.

Strange pull back to the book and now I am dancing in the linguistic architecture of a fierce intellect. This is rich food, and I am not sure how much I can imbibe. And yet I'm pulled in.

It's a spider web map here; ideas branching off in relational branches that capillary the map being presented.

Straight ahead here, now a right, visibility down! Left turn, straight, double back to check the road-sign, pull over, close the eyes and ponder, thought semi! - driving along the the main thoroughfare now, I could and should draft it, or even better yet, hitch up, follow the intellect through the maze and I do but

only for so long

and the hitch breaks and I'm back to my pedantic pace but now

the space is back

I've pulled back from the black on white and tracered into my cortex is a bright and fading big picture of the map she is drawing, pulsing in patterns and connected passages and roads joining roads joining roads and there's a ladder extending from my frontal lobes out and down to the page again

and I'm back on the street level view and I'm not sure how much of the pull is healthy and how much is rubber-banded attention that keeps coming back to the idea landscapes here, ideas that I will never complete absorb, but of which I can till the top layers and use them for harvests later

and it's bright, AND fading, AND pulsing

and I layer her positions in my head over greater abstractions that underscore reality more than her vision can, because they are more at the root of it all

but I realize that the base supports the floors above it; the soil produces the flora and fauna which ultimately point bidirectionally, out and in, and ALL of this is a part of the glorious Kosmos, it's all Shiva and I'm glad,

Glad I just

can.