Earlier I had a shower and I was blown away by what I was able to think. I had to stop actively showering and brace myself in the wake of my revelations.
Later tonight a friend told me his thoughts didn't shock him.
I'm happy that I don't identify with that statement.
Because my thoughts shock me.
Hopefully at least once a week.
I am far too outraged to not be shocked.
I make abstract connections, I think through 'big' problems in silly ways and it makes me feel better.
And it always startles me. It freaks me out. It scares me. My mind scares me. I love it.
My writing is magical.
It produces in me emotions that are practically useful in my daily living.
And this issue, the issue of 'magic' is the one I am currently working on tentatively addressing.
You will be seeing a new essay from me soon.
'Nihilism, Magic, and Amusement: Rediscovering Aesthetic-Mystical Experience'.
Something like that.
I rely on precise definitions that come from Collingwood's The Principles Of Art.
I hope that sometimes people just read my essays and hang with me. Because I hope that by the end of the essay things are clearer. Because in the intro, in the title, things are not clear.
My essays are assays. Not confident statements.