paisleypiper's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- on the fly with the bat of an eye Tonight I had drinks after work with my friend T. Every once in a while we get together, belly up to the bar, and talk about the big questions and theories that have been occurring to us. At least, that is our pattern. I like to test my arm chair hypotheses out on T. because he likes to find the �yes but� angel that leads to the next layer of thought. For example, I told T. that for some reason I experience deja veux when I am still in a moving vehicle. I wondered whether there is anything to the sensation of having a vehicle move me that triggers deja veux. T. immediately told me that he has deja veux when he is at rest. And that he had read somewhere that deja veux might be caused by a spare early image that arrives a flash before the other images � somewhat explaining the moving phenomenon that I experience. It is the brain accommodating the image before it decodes the scene� Neither of us knew what to make of this, because we don�t want the mystery solved with some scientific conjecture that is conjecture nonetheless. But what is most fascinating to T. is the fading of deja veux. How it seeps away like that last bit of wine in a bottle or silver change. How we try to hold on to it, to remember it, but at the same time become so enthralled with the feeling that we do not have the powers of analysis at our disposal to somehow hang on to it, explore it. It keeps it elusive and mysterious. And isn�t it the same with dreams. I wake up remembering dreams, but after a bath, some coffee, the thoughts of the work day, they become less and less real. So while my alarm clock jolts me out of this world that I care about and created, and I am startled by being awake in the regular day-to-day life with residual emotions, it is inevitable that the sensation evaporates. This is why I like T. I told Quinn that in a way we give ourselves a taste of the �real graduate school experience.� A professor once told me that while in graduate school I should be roaming around with my head full of literature, thinking the big thoughts, challenging myself. I don�t have that luxury, but am fortunate to have several friends with whom I can kindle the dynamic. And life with Quinn is like that. Some evenings we just get to talking about the kind of nothing that is everything at the same time. We sort out our perspectives. It is a wonderful luxury that our relationship affords � everyday is like grad school. Well, at least some days. All too often we have to both get negotiate and navigate through complicated lives at work and with families. And we both also negotiate and navigate the complications of wanting to produce creative works somehow amidst two lives of obstacles. But the important thing is that we keep our hopes and keep trying to work the big pictures of our lives so that we can have those hopes. Some day is a powerful day. I don�t know when I will declare it as now, but I hope that one day I get the chance. 9:10 p.m. - 2003-01-07 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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