ICE COLD » Observations

proof

aileen — Mon, 13 Jun 2011 17:30:47 +0000

Photo by Duane Michals. This life is bittersweet.

dream of life

aileen — Thu, 26 May 2011 13:59:22 +0000

“Peace, peace! He is not dead, he doth not sleep — he hath awakened from the dream of life. ‘Tis we, who lost in stormy visions, keep with phantoms an unprofitable strife.”

-Shelley

el bi seu

aileen — Wed, 18 May 2011 14:05:15 +0000

The cutest scene from Jim Jarmusch’s Mystery Train.

does your heart still beat

aileen — Fri, 06 May 2011 17:30:28 +0000

“The moment, the instant of the act does not renew itself. It exists by itself: to repeat it is to give it a new meaning. It does not have any signs of the past experience. It is another moment. At the same time in which it happens it is already a thing in itself.

Only the instant in the act is alive. In it the “coming to be” is increased. The instant in the act is the only live reality in ourselves. To be conscious is already the past. Plain perception, the act, is the future making itself. The present and the future are connected in the present-now of the act.”

-About the Instant, Lygia Clark, 1965

possibilian

aileen — Fri, 29 Apr 2011 03:54:39 +0000

“Time is this rubbery thing,” Eagleman said. “It stretches out when you really turn your brain resources on, and when you say, ‘Oh, I got this, everything is as expected,’ it shrinks up.” The best example of this is the so-called oddball effect—an optical illusion that Eagleman had shown me in his lab. It consisted of a series of simple images flashing on a computer screen. Most of the time, the same picture was repeated again and again: a plain brown shoe. But every so often a flower would appear instead. To my mind, the change was a matter of timing as well as of content: the flower would stay onscreen much longer than the shoe. But Eagleman insisted that all the pictures appeared for the same length of time. The only difference was the degree of attention that I paid to them. The shoe, by its third or fourth appearance, barely made an impression. The flower, more rare, lingered and blossomed, like those childhood summers.

http://www.newyorker.com/reporting/2011/04/25/110425fa_fact_bilger