"NOTES FROM A WEIRD [TWO] DAY[S]," part III

S Y M M E TRY BREAKING

1. Houses and apartments might be viewed as a city's genome: cities' genetic materials are ensconced there; these inhabitants are cities' phenotypes, the living expressions of urban development's somewhat random influence.

ii. The quality of a residential view is determined by the number of other domiciles and businesses, both central and outlying, visible from the resident's vantage point.

iii. "You could always be somewhere else."

iv. "... should ...... .. ......... .... ."

2. ...By contrast, "nature" (woods) is less an expanse and more a tapestry. Dense networks of growth cancel out even the possibility of light.

ii. Eyes set to hyperfocal distance (infinite sight); it all can be described as immediate, present, and intense. You cannot "be" within any one part of the forest, nor outside of it-- the paradox there, of course, is the impossibility of isolation within total solitude. Spontaneous symmetry-breaking.

we mistakenly drove past Bolinas, to the outskirts of Point Reyes, everything darkening, everything silencing.

iii. The city skyline/morass of propertied hills as structure-preserving mapping ("infinity- function.")

iv. Arrogant assertions of geometry on plant life: the Parterre; suburban lawns.

3. Symmetry Breaking, continued: Rigor mortis sets in over the town, over the antique walls of bottles, lined faces, prejudices, artfully-bent neon--its strength is siphoned by the ocean, alive with crests the color of nacre.

ii. Light seems inversely proportional to noise, which always increases as the sun lowers, as though no weight of night could hang upon the halos of minims that emanate from the bar, our last romanticized structure...

Such relationships were absolutely illuminated by this night, this swell of summer, and yet shifted discreet as a damp shadow.

4. A room behind the saloon, 2:?? a.m.

ii. Reading songs of a Canadian poet, penned before [his] time[s] branded his face (22.) He wrote his wounds in[to] seams of muslin, turned out pages and translated the stigmata of a City Christ.
Skin folds unto skin as bloodflow diffuses its stains.

iii. ...but words (his, mine) are all upwardly-mobile evacuess of the body, making their weightless ascent through atmospheres of misanthropy, silence, memory--

Never mistake a person's muteness for stupidity.

5. from SONG OF PATIENCE

"...O I will tell him to love you carefully;
to honor you with shells and colored bottles;
to keep from your face the falling sand
and from your human arm the time-charred
beetle;
to teach you new stories about lightning
and let you run sometimes barefoot on the shore.
And when the needle grins bloodlessly in his cheek
he will come to know how beautiful it is
to be loved by a madwoman."

ii. (D.L.A.)