The Sublime

26/6/06. What gives me a sense of the sublime?
Sometimes, a fantastic modern environment, a futuristic museum. Shinjuku, Tokyo. Times Square.
But more often...Vast, grand, empty spaces. Huge public squares such as Red Square, Tiannenmen’s Square. A mystical feeling that suffering has taken place and that battles have been fought by passionate, tearful, fearful men over ideas, sometimes noble, sometimes absurd. Lives torn apart and made.
All of these places have a sense of historical importance. That alone is enough. The grey concrete housing departments of Alexanderplatz, Berlin do it too. Old Le Corbusier-designed French apartment high-rises, a sense of old ideas.

Also, in landscapes. The red rocks in the deserts of Arizona, of Australia. In Antarctica, a frozen world. The mountains of Peru. In Mongolia, the vast light green grass with pale blue lakes of waters. And knowing that it’s chilly makes it even more beautiful. Dripping rainforests with massive trees in Brazil, a canopy of even height with vines wrapped around every tree. Sand dunes in Egpyt on which lost Arab women are riding camels.

31/10/06 Yesterday I went to an Informal Class at the University of Texas’ Pickle Research Centre, in the north of Austin. After the class, I had to wait outside on the side of a deserted stretch of road for the bus. Standing there, I felt the scene was sublime, beautiful. What I really liked was waiting for an hour just nearly under the power lines. From this point, I could see:
- The power lines, supported by heavy wooden logs, stretching far away. The soft buzzing sound from the transformer box mounted on one of the logs.
- The full moon above the power lines
- The bus stop sign
- A transmission tower flashing red hundreds of metres away in the distance
- A water storage tower standing alone amongst the tall grasses in the middle of an overgrown field next to the road
- The street lights curling away in to the distance, an occasional car coming roaring past.
With the exception of this and the soft hum from the transformer box, the night was cool and quiet. Standing there, watching, and then, eventually, listening to my iRiver MP3 player, I felt the beauty of the place. What I really like is the feeling of seeing the markings of civilisation (the power lines, or a train track on which occasionally a train would pass by when I was in Czech Republic), and yet the place is lonely, quiet, and the environment is still totally natural. It is a lonely, quiet area and the moon and the deserted field and other natural things are right next to such looming infrastructure projects.


7/12/06. Delirious thoughts on absurd humour: You have a virtuous room, virtue is embodied in the walls. Your room is The Good. You can strike truth in to the hearts of others.