A Solved Paradox (notes)
“I am constantly trying to communicate something incommunicable, to explain something inexplicable, to tell about something I only feel in my bones and which can only be experienced in those bones.’’
I find writing quite peculiar.
When a blue entity comes by, its control restrains you from breathing. Therefore, writing is not even an option.
When it returns to the sea, its inherent spirals fill your notebook as if it was afraid your pen would run out of ink.
In this Kafkaesque world, you are unproductive through the eyes of society. Yet, inspiration finds its way through the surface.
You cannot even outline the misery when it is there. Nevertheless, the sketch is complete when it is leaving.
Did you chase it away once you unconsciously solved it, or did time itself find it tedious and let it go?
What would happen if the pen finds its way to your hand as the blue entity is choking you.
Will the meaning of the art change?
The brain never stops working. Why would we assume it stopped thinking?
We only stop hearing it or listening to it.
Your final piece never was created after the conflict. As a matter of fact, the words were already floating over your mind during the affliction or maybe even the euphoric event.
Kafka answered his wish without realizing it.
The creative outcome is not conceived after anything because thinking is beyond time. Thus, we are our only paradox.