The minarets of He'Am are filled with innumerable and incomprehensible treasures, all of which defy the human capacity for rational evaporation and other more imprecise desires for explication: they are multicellular, musical doodads of somewhat murky character, all of which have scintillating, iridescent, coruscating, radiant, self-transforming components of a variety of material compositions and even more bizarre arrangements of chords, quavers, and semiquavers. The experiencer is left feeling as if they have seen beyond the surface of the universe, into the cosmic ocean of reason, maybe even into the mind of god. The sensation that one has just missed the scent of god is often experienced by those who witness the towering crevasses, the abundant silences, the strange people with their odd hats and even odder perfusion of beliefs who crowd around the minarets and offer the scantest of advice, the principal coffers of deliverance and perfusive wonder. But because their art is so beguiling, one often loses track of time. I have to say, though, I have to stay, it's just not worth missing. And after the whole thing is over, you just want to examine your fingernails.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment