Or, to put it another way, which shore does today’s photograph represent to you orndorff, the mind’s or the heart’s shoreline?
You pose an interesting question I have not thought about before. It is difficult to imagine either the heart or the mind having a shoreline or an edge of any kind, yet passion is neither the mind nor the heart. It is easier to feel that passion has a stronger drive beating against the heart. Wave after wave of endless human passion crashing against a heart of stone and earth makes more sense than waves of focused passion pounding into the stone of intellect and reason.
Yet, in the sense of the physics and/or metaphysics of the concept, which of the two would the wave power, the turmoil and the undertow of strong watery passion erode away first, the heart or the mind?
Two heartfelt literary characters come to mind: Captain Ahab and Hamlet. Ahab’s heart eventually washed away as it were sand. Hamlet’s mind became pitted and clogged; unsteady in its reason. I am neither Ahab or Hamlet but I have an understanding for both characters in terms of their novel-like circumstances, circumstances most all human beings can identify with one way or another.
In this line of questioning, as I cannot choose, I don’t know who I am in either heart or mind. The passion for attempting to create concepts from the wordless elements however, is as the restless sea within, and I feel its mysterious pressure at both my heart and mind with only my soul perhaps, knowing why such inner theatre on such an unlikely shy, quiet and yet bluntly, such a wordy stage as this. I am no tragic character. Life is almost all sound and fury.
For what? What does death make of such living noise? I see no purpose, and yet I, a human being, am driven to create purpose – a hope for a better life for those who come after. It has always been such and is built into the humanity of the genes as much or little as I can see. Surviving death must have something to do with it. Perhaps the Dead must watch and see what happens to their children. Perhaps it is a just sentence for the Dead to do so. Now I am made angry, deeply so, and I do not like this line of thinking.
An honest response, and you can learn something from it. – Amorella.
I have thought about this overnight and wonder if, in the Afterlife, a person’s unique passions are herorhis ‘fingerprint’ signature as to what is left of herorhis character. That it is our deepest passion that carries us through life both consciously and unconsciously. It can easily be outwardly detected in the artist as well as the architect and the musician, but passion runs through each individual and leaves its erosive marks that declare us human from the inside out.
This is nothing new to some readers I’m sure, but it is to you. Where have you been for sixty-seven years, orndorff, that you do not already know these things?
I think it is due to brain-malfunctions and lack of memory. I should know these things innately, but I have difficulty in thinking things out. And, by tomorrow, I will have become distracted and moved on. Life is full of noise and distractions – which are detrimental to clear, concise esoteric-like thought. Which, of course, is but one of my inner passions.
Another hypothesis. Your mind is a playground, orndorff, but at least it is not a circus. – Amorella.
Thinking is a challenge which I enjoy. As I grow older, it seems healthier to keep thinking instead of drifting off into the Neverlands of the world. I don’t know this is of interest to others though. I would hope it stimulates personal thought. That is the intent.
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