(This is probably irrelevant to the vast majority of consensus reality, except for the
f*ed up clouds featured at the end. That would be reasonably relevant to just about anyone. However, what would be or could be does not necessarily impart what is and so, for most folks, this is all utterly unimportant.)
I think it was a few weeks ago that I realized that art used to be magical, meaning that objects carried a certain power, a certain force. I know that there are numerous traditions which feature sacred objects or holy objects, wood and leather and glass and jewels, clay and stone thought to bear some power. Perhaps they were imbued with that power through a belief in it?
I don’t know.
What I do know is that magic – of any sort – only works if you believe in it and that, really, anything could be magical, if only just a little. (Actually the world is full of utterly non-magical things, like…okay, everything is magical.) I also know that it is delightful for me to imagine a world in which any old thing could be potentially potent or portent if one chooses to invest in the belief that it is.
It’s true that I have, for many years, really truly tried to make non-magical things be magical, albeit in an exceedingly 1/2 assed way, like “I wish that this stuffed animal could come to life.” Or, “I wish that my staring at that corner would make all the electricity in this classroom cease to work.” The lights flickered once or twice, but that was only because they were shitty fluorescent lights, the sort you find in schools and prisons.
Other failed or dubiously successful attempts at vernacular magic include:
“Maybe if I throw this rock, they’ll call me.”
“Maybe if I hold on to this piece of paper and think real hard something…might happen?”
“What if I spit into this river, what could that make happen?”
At this point, it seems fairly evident that I am not especially proficient in magic. However, that really is arguable, because my life is actually quite magical most of the time, with families of cardinals and pleasant enough times, interesting occurrences and what not. Regardless of my current state of proficiency in magic, I expect that I may become even more magical very soon. In fact, this is already taking place.
Today I realized that my flexible orientation to reality has gradually made it possible for me to totally believe that this vintage ’95 multi-function office phone is potentially magical, that some small ghost of electricity lives inside of it, the echoes of a thousand boring conference calls and elevator music.
< This phone could be magic.
What if, when one becomes familiar with the concept of how the “collective consciousness” and “wills of the powers that be” (or something like that) might possibly work, is it possible for one to imbue meta-conscious significance upon objects or actions that could then be like…would then be like…magic?
If I dial a particular sequence of numbers onto this phone, then something might…not happen…I mean, it might, but probably only if it was going to anyway. It’s all about the lines of causation and significance of association between events.
I don’t know if believe in magic anymore.
Nonetheless, I find the thought of a magical world to be far more interesting than the thought of a non -magical world, and I don’t mean like hocus-pocus esoterica and arcane Wiccan wisdom. I mean, like, this old receiving stamp could be a time machine.
…yes, that’s definitely more fun than work.
I recently made an interesting study of my avoidance of the small task of completing a tax form necessary for employment. It was – I believe – the W9. Those are some good characters, the W and the 9. I resent that they are used to designate a form which will be useful in the drawing of my wages to fund things I do not believe in or approve of. I told them, “I’ll have it to you in the next twelve hours!” …and then it became later. A day went by, two. “Why is it so fucking hard for me to take the computer upstairs, turn on the printer, plug in the printer, open the inbox pull up the file…” (Currently having mild residual anxiety attack over the whole affair.)
I have a longstanding aversion to paperwork. This is not just an aversion, but something closer to repulsion, a viscerally-based reaction to the feel of official envelopes and the look of federal spacing and font. Oh, it gives me stress just thinking about it! All in all, the W9 took five minutes and was not hard at all. It wasn’t even unpleasant. I think I detest thinking about paperwork more than I detest paperwork itself. Which is a different sort of problem altogether, ultimately easily solved. I just have to start doing the paperwork and then I won’t have to think about doing the paperwork, it will just be getting done.
Still, paperwork just isn’t really that magical…until now, as I begin to realize that filling out forms in a timely and effective manner can be quite magic, in that it can produce desirable situations and can also remove problems.
Sigh…fine, then. I go fill out the forms.
SOMETHING SOMEBODY MIGHT WANT TO CONSIDER FILLING OUT SOME PAPERWORK ABOUT:
What is wrong with these clouds? They are weird and stringy, viscous almost. They remind me of The Stuff. I suppose that a lot of people on facebook would probably tell me that clouds like this are the result of chemtrails. I don’t know anything about that other than that Wikipedia says that people say chemtrails are a conspiracy theory, and who knows what that means.
I do know that these clouds don’t look right and pretty soon people are going to start to notice.
(Hmmm, maybe they won’t?
(I do know that clouds really don’t look like this. Well, clearly, they do now. They didn’t used to though, did they?)
This one here below is not quite so slimy looking. In fact, it could be a lovely little arrangement of figure, line, and density.