Rambling about music and convos.

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Sunday, June 05, 2011

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about our shining wit and our passion for irony.
about people say I'm crazy doing what I'm doing,
and flying like paper and getting higher than planes.

There's something just wonderful about communication. The ability to let someone else know something you're thinking about. It ma
kes me think about mirror neurons, language, consciousness, and that sort of things, but it also makes me think about art, about music.
The music referenced above obviously reminds me of you, Mr. Penguin (We made a film-Tom Milsom, Watching The Wheels-John Lennon and Paper Planes-M.I.A.)
Sometimes, I find myself über engaged to a lyric, and feeling there's no best way of describing what I'm feeling than that song, to the extent of which it actually becomes annoying for being such a cliché. But I stop caring as I fall asleep with my iPod.

That's one thing I wanted to put out there, the other thing, is about a conversation with our other very dear amiga y siempre compañera del desencanto. Referring to the graspability of reality, for us scientists it's all alright if the universe can actually be understood, but if it isn't, then what? She said something like: 'What if it isn't? maybe it's just like a huge canvas that we can just observe, admire, enjoy.' I answered something like, 'Maybe, but as scientists we also get to paint.' Ah, bring me some philosopher's cookies please! ( :D )
So, lets hope we can have some nice chat on that kitchen table of yours I miss so deeply.


Comments (1)

It is indeed unbelievable, I think, that we have the capacity of taking something that is inside our minds (electrons in a spree), giving it shape, putting it in the outside so another person can chew and swallow, so a portion of the initial -something- gets inside the other person's mind. It blows me away.

And the canvas image? so beautiful. The way I see it, science is venturing into the unknown with nothing but magnifying lens, a notepad and thriving eagerness for beauty. All while being conscious that never will you know the whole truth, or if there is such thing.

It's like going through an abstract-post-expressionism gallery.There's no way to know what the artist meant, you can only assume, and rejoice in your uncertain hypothesis. Without ever knowing if there was actually an intention in the first place.