Another diary entry today, from November 6, 2003, discussing some ideas I’ve been working on with regard to unity, separateness, and relationship. Don’t read it if you’re hungry.
January 14, 2004
January 9, 2004
Two Views of an Exploding Rocket
One of these days I am going to write an essay called “Two Views of an Exploding Rocket.” It’s going to be about how movies can completely change your life.
Back in 1983, when I was but a lad of 15 living in Santa Fe, the El Paseo movie theater (the first one in the area with lounge seating) showed Koyannisqatsi and The Right Stuff within a few months of each other. Koyaanisqatsi was a meditation about time and timelessness, the natural vs. the artifical, and so much else; it appealed to my nascent spiritual side. The Right Stuff was a paean to the “can-do” attitude; it resonated with the part of me that was the son of a toolmaker and a brother of draftsmen.
Both movies used the same archival film footage of an exploding rocket. In The Right Stuff, the footage is part of a montage showing many rockets fizzling, exploding, and going haywire. The scene, which has a deliciously humorous overtone, symbolizes the progressive (and eventually triumphant) engineering effort to build a reliable rocket. In Koyaanisqatsi, a mch longer version of the same footage appears at the end of the movie, and (at least to me) serves to warn us that our efforts to outperform or override nature are doomed to fail.
Now, anyone that knew me growing up knows that I loved rockets and space travel. They symbolized everything that could be noble about mankind: how heroic engineers will create better and cleaner worlds on Earth and in space, worlds where people will be free to excel, etc. etc. (When you’re 15, you still believe that people are driven only by the purest of motives.) Along comes Koyaanisqatsi and suddenly my symbol of progress has been turned into a symbol of arrogant short-sightedness.
I wrestled with this contrast a lot. Which view was right? Instinctively, I knew that they both were valid within their own frames of reference. Something could be an expression of knowledge and ignorance at the same time.
Could I still cheer for the technological accomplishment while also appreciating the “wrongs” it represented? The answer turned out to be yes. My awareness of the dichotomy did not cause me to reject or invalidate the Right Stuff frame of reference, or force me to deny my fondness for it. By embracing this contradiction, I could in effect grasp something larger than just the single aspect. Someday I may understand how and why I was able to do that.
January 6, 2004
Three More Important Journal Entries
I doubt I’ll keep updating this site on a daily basis for much longer. Consistency is not one of my hallmarks when I’m not getting paid for it. I just feel compelled to make sure there is enough content and context on the site to serve as a kind of “core” around which to build anything else that may follow. And to keep you from getting too bored too quickly.
Today I am offering three more diary entries (April 17, 2002; May 1 and 6, 2002) that take the concept of “Right Organization” right up to my psychological present. The first and third entries are long; the middle one is short (what I like to call a “bridge entry” because it serves as a connection between the entry that leads up to its conclusions and the entry that follows from its implications). See what you think.
January 5, 2004
An Important Journal Entry
Today I’m offering a trascription of an entry from my diary. This entry, from February 4, 2002, builds on some of the issues discussed in the Tutorial School dispatches, specifically the concept of “right organization.” This concept has been a subject of much interest to me as I have sought to articulate my personal philosophy.
The diary entry discusses how a better understanding of our relationship to institutions might help us come to terms with the concept of guilt. Being a recovering Catholic, this is an issue of no small weight for me. As with all future diary entries, the text is presented with all the convolutions and stream-of-consciousness style of the original, with commentary at the end to bring the ideas up to date, clean up the structure, and relate the ideas to other offerings on Sotto Voce.
January 4, 2004
Introducing Sotto Voce
The first expressions I am offering up are “The Tutorial School Dispatches,” four essays that I wrote for my mentor Richard Testa, the co-founder of The Tutorial School in Santa Fe, New Mexico. I stayed in touch with Richard from my graduation in 1986 until his death in September 2002. I wrote these essays in 2000-01, in the hope that Richard would share them with his current students and thereby generate an ongoing e-mail conversation. Well, that never happened, but the essays do reflect the shaping of some ideas and concepts that have turned out to be very important for me.