11 June 2006

Thoughts of angles and angels



Aside from just absolutely adoring this band, The Knife, I got to thinking about my own actual process of thinking the other day. I was sitting over dinner with my friend, Steph, putzing over an idea I've been working on for many years, but just beginning to formulate a process by which to introduce it into the world. I've briefly spoken about it with Channel Null and Rev Max, but it seems more in order to flesh out the thoughts to the words. Steph was quick to point out the question of How, which is obviously one of the most important for any good design to work.

The video here, for their single "Silent Shout," was directed by Andreas Nilsson and drew on the work of 1930s German animator Oscar Fischinger and on Charles Burns's graphic novel, Black Hole.

What I find particularly interesting is the analogy I can make between my process of thinking — sorta what is going on my head — and the visuals of this video. Now, I would figure that magic and design have more than a few things in common, which I've touched on elsewhere, but I've always pondered how others form thoughts, how familiar they are with the process itself, and just how far from the resultant thought can they deduce the root effects. Through the years of my lazy meditations, I've become very familiar with the reduction of my analogies, in my mind, at least, to basic geometries.

Where I lack, however, and which I am again beginning to relive, is my attachment to emotions. A bit. It's not like I am a emotionally devoid husk, but I tend to not meddle in the everyday emotions of experience. But I can always seem to make geometric analogies to the events occurring in my life. The video above makes the association between the music and the movement of geometry, not unlike my process of thinking and ultimately visualising connections between phenomenon. It makes it usually easy to find kinks in ideas, and to draw sometimes sweeping observations. Sometimes I am wrong, but often it is that I lack the capacity to translate from my own thoughts to plain language for conversation.

After speaking to a designer friend of mine in Vancouver while I was there, I got the feeling that there are those that can see the designs, think in design, and then there is a large contingent that cannot. I am not claiming to be an astonishing designer, far from it, I have lots to learn yet, but I believe there is an upper-hand in being able to reduce analogies to their base forms. This resultant geometries should define the parametre by which the entire design process should flow. Colour, emotion, shape, tone, attitude… can all be deduced metaphorically to base geometries. (See: Colour theory according to Wassily Kandinsky.)

This should really lead to a deeper understanding not only of clients' needs, it defines that parametre by which all design for any particular project should proceed. And further, it introduces us to a more base understanding of the intelligence and realm by which preternatural entities, such as angels and demons, exist (whatever that means). (See: Who peers back at us from beyond.)

And on another note, I am truly curious about the etymology of the words "angle" and "angel," as most evocations of angels and demons are rooted in sigils crafted from particular angles that have subtler, esoteric connotations. The last trip we took out to the Rocky Mountains last year left me with some very intense experiences. Mark and I played with coloured rods for what seemed like hours, rearranging them into abstractions of image and shape, and while under the influence of psilocybin we continued a full on dialogue through the positioning of these rods.

I am sure I could make this process of thinking out onto a particular level of the Kabbalistic Tree of Life, but what I am more concerned with is how to create a process of translation. Unfortunately, now that I think about it, this seems to be, by and large, the occult's largest issue it must overcome: creating pragmatic analogies that allow one to share esoteric knowledge with others.

Which ultimately reduces me to admitting I hate having to explain myself. Fortunately, sometimes, some people are worth it and drive me to figure out ways.

If you dig "Silent Shout," the video for their most recent single, "We Share Our Mothers' Health," may be seen via the link.

3 comments:

channel null said...

Fishinger: Fishinger's interesting because he seems exemplary of a "synesthesia" artist--you had mentioned this earlier but I wasn't sure what it'd appear as. which tapers into my next point:

Terrence McKenna's theory was that DMT allowed one to experience sensations more linguistically, i.e., with a grammar that could be deciphered. At that point in the lecture he started babbling about the "Timewave".

As I don't know you in person, your statement

I tend to not meddle in the everyday emotions of experience. But I can always seem to make geometric analogies to the events occurring in my life

could be misunderstood, but it sounds very much related to your mechanism of perception. Particularly, "geometric analogies", in my opinion, are an audial phenomenon--you hear a resonance. Geometic patterns seem to resolve the audial into the visual. The question would be what resolves the feeling-tactile into the audial and the visual.

Strictly speaking, emotion is not "tactile", though most emotions have a strong tactile element to them. One of the weaknesses I apprise much of "design" with is that it tends to ignore the feeling component a structure might generate in an individual.

Returning, though, I suspect that the "hyperfractal" phenomenon we experience in sensory deprivation and in between sleep tie the feeling into the other sensory components--I also suspect that the tactile-feeling has a strong element that we could tie into the "Entities"--approaching a "feeling" as external, we can attach a visual image to it. If you will, we can see the geometries as a visual-audial interface like what I understand DMT to do--never having used it, but it sounds very Platonic; and we could see psilocybin as the "Goetic" component, bringing the feeling into the visual.

Now, on Entities and secret angles, have you read Kaos 14? Joel Biroco suggested that the grimoires were intended to read on three levels: as a grimoire, as early work on code--at least on of the medieval demonologists was a cryptographer, and it would go much for explaining the seeming mathematical structure behind them, e.g., the Lesser Key, where 6 of 72 spirits "maketh one to go invisible"--and as grimoires hidden as works of code.

Now, that doesn't do much, but look here at this link to a cached site Klintron sent me: (a href is broken) http-colon-slash-slash web.archive.org/web/20010508214654/http://psorcereezee.future.easyspace.com/pseugoet.html certain patterns repeat. Are these primal angles? That's beyond me.

Fell said...

Well, aside from realising that I don't have the linguistic channels necessary to eloquently iterate particular thoughts I have has been something of a drag. I have a few friends that deal with it and sieve the details out, my roommate is good at that: he'll listen to me and then just sum it up in a few sentences.

Seems my deep thoughts, more on the intuitive level of why things work, why relations are made, and why harmonies exist between social interaction and design elements can be reduced — in my thoughts — to sensations of geometry. All the visualisation exercises I used to do would be focused on geometric shapes, which in turn would evolve into the etheric stew that most come upon during early visualisation attempts. That stew, in turn, always turns into the creepiness that seems to be a constant element when training women to do such visualisations, but having been able to reduce all concepts to geometrics, that combined with my exercises in observing projection, really reduces much of the more frightening aspects of what we do to very fleeting moments of "interestingness."

The first time I was ever frightened was with a Night Terror that followed me out of a semi-lucid dream, but I think the fucker was in as much shock as I was because it fled at the first opportunity and escaped back into the shadows.

The second time was reading the accounts of Joseph C. Lisiewski (is it secretly Hyatt?) in Ceremonial Magic and the Power of Evocation, his treatise on the Heptameron of Peter de Abano.

Which, oddly, I've yet again leafing through its rites the past week.

I'm not sure how it happened, but I think that perhaps I forgot to take the simple pleasures from life. Unfortunately, a bit of a shock to my system and an emotion can render my thought processes a bit silly.

I'll have to work on rectifying that.

As for the DMT, I've had my experience on it. I'm not going to bother trying to explain it. But one thing I am familiar and regaining my footing with is that visualisations must be tempered with will and concentration, and to have the fire of emotion breathed into them. Which is both in regards to any proper magic and any proper life.

And again, my thoughts trail off…

Fell said...

Looking back over that comment I made, I think the point was that aside from terror, the only joy I've grown accustom to enjoying is silence and the great big clouds that ravage the Alberta skies during the summer.

Which is odd when one thinks in terms of projection: what is it that I care to see in friends and loved ones?

Is it safe to presume that the more we reduce ourselves, the further we remove the need for us to entertain the reflection of friends?

Fear came out in that past post as a sample of the few times I've encountered that sense of feeling. But what else is left out there to "feel"?