Wisp of Consciousness

“Neither agreeable nor disagreeable," I answered. "It just is."
Istigkeit — wasn't that the word Meister Eckhart liked to use? "Is-ness." The Being of Platonic philosophy — except that Plato seems to have made the enormous, the grotesque mistake of separating Being from becoming and identifying it with the mathematical abstraction of the Idea. He could never, poor fellow, have seen a bunch of flowers shining with their own inner light and all but quivering under the pressure of the significance with which they were charged; could never have perceived that what rose and iris and carnation so intensely signified was nothing more, and nothing less, than what they were — a transience that was yet eternal life, a perpetual perishing that was at the same time pure Being, a bundle of minute, unique particulars in which, by some unspeakable and yet self-evident paradox, was to be seen the divine source of all existence.”
― Aldous Huxley

I've been thinking about my relationship with art for a little while, and some of the frustrations i've been having. Huxley helped sort some of these thoughts though i'm not yet quite sure how it'll translate to the art i'm making. Yet experiments were made, so here, have one as we break from some of the neater elements and simply have it be an expression captured as it was at the time of making this picture.