This painting by Tiffany Liu does a nice job of illustrating the problem with my brain. Knotted, tangled, convoluted ideas upon ideas, upon more ideas. Some of them old, rotting and gathering flies.
The tangle as a whole is an object of my own making. New ideas are added daily and quickly find their way into the tangle that is . . . well, me. My job, as a person who spends some time trying to see things the way they actually are, is to sort through the mess, untangle the ideas, painstakingly, one at a time.
The tangle as a whole is an object of my own making. New ideas are added daily and quickly find their way into the tangle that is . . . well, me. My job, as a person who spends some time trying to see things the way they actually are, is to sort through the mess, untangle the ideas, painstakingly, one at a time.
Once a thread is separated from the tangled mess, I aim to look at it, consider its relevance in the here and now, discard those ideas that don’t pass the test and keep the relevant ones from again becoming part of the tangle. It’s going to take some time . . .
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