chromatic fantasy-feud morning

promised chinook have returned to warm the frozen ears and piggies of banff residents. the ground melted and have shown what kind of things ice was busy gathering- children's treasure: rocks, branches, odd trinkets and sparkling bits of things. and they are left in very nice neat piles over the gentle dents on the sidewalks. as nature called, ice just left its toys where they are and went, probably hoping to come back to play with them later.

the white snow carpet that hides no one's track also have disappeared. now everyone can walk anonymously again, not being able to be tracked. just muddy tracks and small pebbles underneath the socks. how did they get there every time? only tracks that are left are left with some definite sense of pride: like gigantic pile of animal-processed plant fibers that one finds in the trails.

the trees have shed their icy fleece on the top of the mountains, baring its barks, tough and resilient, cracked in various rhythms. i kind of like the way fine snow flakes covers the branches, like the little fine hairs that covers the outer layer of deer antlers. i wonder if it would be warm- deer antlers. living branches. it amazes me- their construction. strong as bones and evergreen trees, however, still alive- it grows, full of little capillaries to keep themselves feed and those gentle furry skin on them.

outside is a muted pallets of various colours. none of them too aggressive or too bright. some may say dull. i say subtle. im surrounded by this whacked out track of uri cane's bach goldberg album, thumping electronica over the good old german drinking songs. oddly comforting in its disjointed but interconnected ways. ah the ways the human mind works- morphing a system into another. how interesting. while chewing on the last piece that i was reading- hofstadter's godel-escher-bach, capter on chromatic fantasy and feud, the idea of fantasy rules: a system with no axioms, but of only rules.

basically, in a crappy nutshell, it helps to explain that an idea can be pushed or popped back out from a fantasy rule, and the system may go on for awhile, adding more ideas on top of it. the funny thing is that in this case, in this recursion push and pop, a fantasy is nestled on another fantasy, then further located onto another etc etc. so then comes the carry over rule: inside a fantasy, any theorem from the reality one level higher can be brought in and used. like an old game of 'if-then.'

if: monkey is in her studio,
then: she may be completely wasting her day
equivalently: monkey in her studio- she's wasting her day
if: if monkey is in her studio
a NEW THEN: if she's got her computer,
then: she is back online,
then: it is the case that she's wasting her day
therefore: if monkey is in studio,
then if she's got her computer, she's back online,
then she's wasting her day
etc etc

the funny thing is that these if-then sentences/cases/theorems/axioms are each self-contained trivial and self-evident, however, when all mashed up together, it may not follow the usual morphological mapping between two separate things. and once you open that can of worms, you may be open to all kinds of things:
passive meaning, prudence vs. imprudence,

then to to quote good old lewis carroll again:
... you cant go on defending your patterns of reasonings forever. there comes a point where faith takes over.
that one can never give an ultimate proof in some system is correct. you can do proof on proof, then on proof, then another of a proof... till.... you still havent got to the unproven assumption, which becomes a belief, a faith. hence, the world: a fantasy. in order for me to convince you that i am, in fact, wasting time again, you have to believe that i actually exist! do i? aha. cant tell you.

it is relieving feeling i must say. nothing is for certain and there has to be a good reasonable amount of belief in life for one to not to totally lose one's sanity. and i believe today, in middle of muted colours and drizzling rain, i will find some bits of life that i will be completely bonkers over and that somehow, in between all these sensations and thoughts that goes through my head, there will be a few nice connections- as ive been proven that some axioms/theorems can be related and morphed onto one another. just as some pieces will have to wait for their time to be integrated to monkey splatter. when and with what? am not too sure yet.

but i think starting the day with debussy's poisson d'or- piece with all colours and light reflections and fast, whirling beautiful fishes, may be the perfect key for the today's unknown door. colours of goldfishes. as warm as the last few bits of few and rare foilage in the middle of rockies mountain. sparkles in the midst of grey-blue calm water. it's not still is it. it's still all there, just below my eyes. barely detectable. morphed into one another. and i believe both images are beautiful. i can put axioms and axioms by cases but it's easier and human to believe simply: ah, isnt it beautiful. i am going to step through that door, the door framed by quiet melty mountain drizzle, and let's see what one may find.

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