Do not think about this on Prezi do not think about this it is not here for your pleasure not waiting self-less for some deathly embrace as if it were not already perfect and rising starkly, gently behind you perusing the pages of your eyes passing no judgment straighten your back and fly into the sunset as you were meant to – objectless, void, unsundered by the...

(New readers will want to start with the first installment.) Let us continue our beginning: LoF p. 1 We take as given the idea of distinction and the idea of indication, and that we cannot make an indication without drawing a distinction. We take, therefore, the form of distinction for the form. If this doesn't strike you as having a "mystical"...

There is a necessary recursion at the very heart of epistemology. Epistemology can never be founded upon a principle of linearity, where thinking traces its origin to something that lies before thinking, and somehow emerges or grows out of it, because the very existence of this "before", whatever its nature, must always be assumed...

  I was asked to draw my dissertation (which is in its beginning stages). Here's what happened:

Trust me, YOU DON'T WANT TO MISS THIS!!! Frank Chester (find out about his initial work here, and read reviews of his work here) has just returned from a very well received presentation of his research on the Chestahedron at Sunbridge College in Spring Valley, New York. Many in the audience expressed disappointment afterwards that...

today I stand on the horizon beyond the vast, known spaces my steps tracing a Moebius membrane as the white sea pours through my heart no there, no past, no unwanted memory --all swept lovingly into the waves seeds for waiting oysters did you know that I ...

sole to sole, my mirror image and I striding above and below the deep waters curious, I dip beneath the surface stare back up at myself, asleep didn't you call me? i ask have I not come and knelt at your side? the shadow grasps my hand with a solidity I could never muster and bursting into flames I can only weep and...

what spirit speaks the heart re-echoes its lofty chambers with choric ringing  twist and fold in timely rhythm the fountain's deep moods springing   unshadowed now, revealed and waking all forge and fire, veils rent aside the swallowed sun, see! - beaming again 'cross the rivers, stride in stride the call's heard round from distant shores the ferryman's change cast far away for the...

here shall words arrive not on my lips, nor yours but still caressed a meeting of sorts out of sorts still always flowing an uncovering of of  what what will your tongue see your eyes hear our heart sing?