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Scientific Genius | Artistic Genius
Thursday, July 19, 2001 : 11:45 a.m.

Immanuel Kant claimed that there were 4 distinguishable capacities to artistic genius : imagination, understanding, soul and taste.

Kantanian philosophy (concerning artistic genius, that is, because that's what I'll be talking about) also says that artistic geniuses are not capable of demonstrating how they came up with their works, because Nature is the rule it follows. To put it simpler, they don't know how they arrived at their idea, because they cannot will their ideas into existence.

The truth? Kant baffles me. I can never understand. Sometimes, I think I do... I can almost get it. Then, I read something else and it shatters everything all over again. And what I wrote above was just the tip of the iceberg.


Because, what is imagination, anyway? David Hume explained this as the mere capacity for filling gaps between momentary sensations, or perceptions.

Imagination, for some, is the capability of forming mental pictures, summoning something in the mind's eye, pretending and creating worlds.

And whoever said that the reason for the never-ending duel between scientific genius and artistic genius was imagination? IT is exactly what links them together!

That's exactly what Kant sought to do: to separate the scientific genius from artistic genius.

That gives me the platonic notion that Scientists see the Universal forms of things with more accuracy than normal people (forgive me for this term)... and that artists are notoriously unreliable guides.

Okay. So maybe I will never be able to convince people that science and art are almost symmetrical. I don't believe so myself, really. Maybe, it's because that I too see their differences. After all, they are only two proponents of factual modern civilization as we know it... there's so much more... like religion, belief, death, language, art, science, love, war, music...

The hugest difference for me is that science seeks to explain mysteries, and art connects us to mystery without trying to explain it.

But Kant failed at one point: because scientific genius is capable of imagination, understanding, soul and taste, too. Not more or less than the artistic genius.

Time for Lunch!!! Chow time!!! Have a good day ahead, all.

artwork by Julien

Because everything will be all right
Monday, July 16, 2001 : 11:16 a.m.

Filter all the unnecessary elements of your life. It's too short to be burdened by these little jagged inconsistensies.

Sitting on a sinking garden with the sinking sun just ahead of me, laptop casting an eerie glow on my face. My most dreaded moment happens, just then. Just as I light my next cigarette a friendly jogger, probably in his mid-40's, strikes up conversation. He asks about the gadget on my lap. He raves about "technology", how the young people have the it to make it in this world. I smile politely but I want to sink, just as my feelings sink to the pit of my stomach.

He doesn't know just how much everyone is lost. As lost as he is. I don't feel like I have the it he describes. I tell him so, but there is a patronizing, if not impatient, look in his eyes. I know the Discman sitting beside me betrays what I have just said, to him. I'm so glad I was sans cellphone. I finally got the courage to get rid of it.

There is no use convincing this man. He bids me goodbye and continues his jog. Leaving me to shut the laptop, lie back on the grass, and just listen. I suppose I listen to what cannot be put into words. How different the young people are in the eyes of the older ones. They think that we have all the power, that we are too connected to the world. How they hold on to us for guidance, for some crash-course on the future. I would have loved to show him that I knew exactly what I was doing.

In reality, I knew I had no clue myself.

***Am currently listening to: Teenage Fanclub (Songs from Northern Britain), for Stars (We Are All Beautiful People), Harvey Danger (yes, Julien, I just got me ze cd:-)) The Beta Band and my new Maria Callas cd (Yay!). I used to hate buying cd's: now, I adore them. I also saw a live performance by someone named Ed Alain Johnson, who did some fantastic things with his violin while dressed in leather from head to foot. Oh, happy dagger.

Por Su Libertad!
Saturday, July 14, 2001 : 11:48 a.m.

Books, books, books all around. It's been a long time since I've read one whole book. Two months ago I decided to purge myself of literary influences just so I could see what writing I could come up with. I'm fed up, though. It was a boring time for me, and I admit it was a wrong move.

I've reread Sa Mga Kuko ng Liwanag by Edgardo Reyes. The most artistically wrought social novel I've ever read. He resisted the lure of formalist experimentation in favor of realistic documentation of the plight of the exploited poor... the movie is equally great. Please, everyone watch it? Go go go.

I've been trying to write poetry again (I've always sucked at poetry!) and I'm feeling better with the results. When I let someone read a poem I've just written, Magritte's comment runs through my mind: saying that "it does not mean anything, because mystery means nothing either, it is unknowable." Ah, good ol' Magritte. Such a lovely, childish defensiveness. Mwah.

Also, I have to just add a terrible beat poem (I mean that it a nice way!), written by no other than Quark Henares (Quark, if you're reading this, you'll always be a Promil Kid indeed!) I hope he won't mind my copying his poem... I can't help it, it's too quarkish. Hold on to your sanity:

Remember that time when you caught me having
Wild uninhabited sex with a font?
(Abadi, MT Condensed Light)
You weren't
even that mad that I was cheating on
you, you were just pissed at the fact that
why couldn't I have chosen a better-looking font,
like Chromosome Heavy, maybe, or Curlz,
or even my favorite, Carbonated Gothic.
Oh my pretty little macaroon!
I have to go now
Maybe we can do this again sometime.
Have a drink, even. I have some
bottled amniotic fluid in the refrigerator.
from metopolis | heights, vol. XLVII. 2000


Similarly, my brother has just been chosen to be a writer in this Atenean's respected literary publication. Congratulations, Herr Tom. I hope he writes poetry. He sucks at prose. That's the only thing I like about Ateneo: their Heights publication. I steal new copies every issue. Other than that, I wouldn't trade in my UP years for an Atenean education. I don't have anything against Ateneo, though. And anyway, their art courses aren't really as interesting as UP (ooooops hehehe). UP-CFA DOMINATES!

I looked at yesterday and saw my tomorrow.
Friday, July 13, 2001 : 02:48 p.m.


The little slip into the yesterdays of magical mystery tours and strawberry fields. I spent the whole night listening to music, lying in the dark, going through the familiar tunes one by one, drawing up memories attached with each melody into my arms, circling, empowering me once again. How strange that a note can unleash a flood of memories in you. Everywhere in the dark there were dancing fish. I swam with my head under the water, not coming up for air, because I didn't even realize I had to breathe.

So on and on are the journeys, and my hand suddenly went limp. All my direction --- compass, maps, bottles with written messages --- fell to the ground. I was swimming in my own body, and in me a burst of moonlight strong as the sun coursed through my whole being. My senses felt so alive: I was sensitive to touch, so sensitive it was unbelievable...

How unbelievable? I raised my finger heavenwards, and the sun immediately offered its own ray to touch mine, and I was not burned. The moonlight kept me cool, and the sun made me convulse.

Everywhere, everywhere, tiny voices of my childhood blended with my music, and I was creating my own music, being the whole concerto, and conducting a million violins and violas with a wave of my baton. Me, it was me, and I started to stagger at the sheer proportions, and I started to see how high I was in the Cliff of Forever, and I decided, once and for all, to...

The music goes on and on, and I weave my life into patterns, zigzagging my way through the labyrinth, and I know that wherever I turn you hear my music too.

***I've watched Marquis de Sade's Salo: 120 Days in Sodom, directed by Pier Paolo Pasolini. Fascist nightmare. Grossed out and fascinated at the same time, holding on to my stomach to keep the waves of nausea at bay. I agree, though, that it shouldn't be banned. People should see this and decide for themselves. Eat a light dinner, though, before watching this. And stay away from chocolate.

artwork by kala

Opus Maius
July 13, 2001 : 02:43 a.m.

Alchemy originated before the Christian era; a work of either a madman or a dreamer, whichever you can relate to. Basically, alchemists were people who sought the grandiose potion of the conversion of base metals into gold.

Pretty advanced thinking, don't you think? Metaphorically speaking, it was the discovery of Medieval period's Internet.

The dream: Prolongation of Life. The secret to unravel: Immortality.

To quote Thom Yorke I sing: nice dream, nice dream, nice dream...

And because alchemy mixed magic and science, it worked along the lines of mysticism and quasireligiousness. It was based on ancient Chinese, Greek and Indian theories on the natural world (probably the 4 elements: earth, air, water, fire), and only when the Arabs started trading with China was this knowledge passed on to Egypt and Europe. (Oh, I love it that I'm from the East...! :-))

I'm not terribly well-versed or well-read on alchemy yet, but their pursuit of the philosopher's stone, or the exilir, which would transmute base metals into gold, cements my reservations on Alchemists and Universal Poetry. Damn it, who would've thought that philosophy, chemical technology, mysticism and mystery could blend perfectly into a search for that which is believed to be ungraspable? (forgive my adjective: it's ungrammatical---yes, there is such a word--- but it fits my sentence perfectly)

It baffles me that John Dee and even Isaac Newton were alchemists. Go, team.

I have nothing but pure respect for alchemists. Other people call them foolish (let's face it, they weren't too successful) but I say they were people with dreams, who wanted to uncover mystery, and probably wanted to understand the Universe more. Just like us. Hey, we're all alchemists. I'm an alchemist. You're an alchemist, if you choose to be. We all drink and bathe in aqua vitae (Water of Life), we all step on exilirs, and we're always searching for something to prolong human life, be it in poetry, art, science, mathematics, cooking, traveling, or whatever you think makes you go on. We're always trying to balance elements. We're a mix of chemical, philosophical and mystical thoughts.

Hehehe. What the alchemists did discover were natural substances used to make drugs. And oh, alcohol too. Very wise madmen or dreamers, indeed.

Ayaaaaa. Well. Good bye, good tidings, and peace on earth to everyone. Hello too to myself, who is on her computer in some parallel Universe. This is a great topic... I'll explain more about my Parallel Universe Theory another day. All I'm saying is, there's probably another you. *theme of twilight zone*

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