Lost Pieces and the Fourth Dimension
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Much has happened, most of which having disappeared
unceremoniously into the fourth dimension. My last post was months ago, before
I lost my day job working for the German factory, advertising their gas systems
and baked goods to the world. It was before my night job started its journey on
'its' self-absorbed path to supernova, eclipsing my day job with naked abandon
and a flick of a finger. It was before my youngest left on his cosmic journey to
illuminate the dark, magical corners of his mind, while testing his body's
limits, and then pushing those limits beyond the conceivable with what he had found
lurking there. It was even before a forbidden, but courageous creature followed
us home one night, making his way into our lives and becoming fat. But, was it actually
courage that this creature possessed, or was it a lack of sense as a 'lack of
sense' can sometimes make us believe? Most likely, this forbidden creature
followed us home that evening out of madness, brewed and fermented upon the
streets, as sure as your continued foray into this post of the lost pieces shall
be. Buckle up.
The war was over. After landing "between rockets into a
mine field of ideas, of philosophies, of religions and cultures," life
went on in our little, kaleidoscope corner of the world. There were 5 days of
waking to the buzzer next to my head, slogging to the day job at the German's, and
unsuccessfully hashing out the constant incongruity that grew from the cracks
and corners there. My night job would continue to haunt me during my waking
hours, feeding the creation fire, and then my dreams would be rudely
interrupted by the buzzer next to my head. Day 6 would be a relief of cosmic
proportions, usually starting with a long bike ride through the wilderness and
ending with a thorough house cleaning to prepare for Day 7. The circle of
monotony was whole and complete, but only complete like an American donut; with
a hole in the middle.
Some of you may know of my two dogs, Dude and Bongo, who
until recently also had a hole in the middle. Since my black dog, Dude, has a
white spot and my white dog, Bongo, has a black spot, I always fancied the idea
that they were a kind of manifestation of the logo on my first surf board, a Yin
& Yang symbol. As a child I even custom cut and fit the grip tape on my
skateboard into a Yin & Yang. I loved it, you know, the whole idea of
duality continually pulling at the world, a cosmic fight between good and evil
with mortals like you and me sucking up the flotsam and jetsam, to maybe attain
a better vantage point to view our lives from. More recently I have become
aware that the concept of duality is flawed, since in order to make it work in
the first place, it needs a Creator to kick start the whole thing. And,
likewise, the Yin-&-Yang of Dude and Bongo wasn’t whole. It, too, had an
imperceptible hole that was only visible once it had been filled by the most unlikely
of creatures.
Max, the cat, careened from across the street and out of
nowhere, ran up to the dogs, and scared their collective spots right off.
Normally, Dude hunts cats as a pastime and Bongo bounces around for the ride.
This time it was both of the dog's turns to leap into the air, looking foolish
and hoping the other dogs in the neighborhood hadn't seen. After assaulting the
dogs, Max just yawned and trotted up to my wife, who is horribly allergic to
cats. Both dogs recovered their senses, mid-air, and attempted to pursue Max,
but I held them back. My wife then had a turn to leap into the air, as she
yelled over to me that the cat was insane, and that something was terribly
wrong with its brain! Then it followed us home. Now, every night, with Dude's
leash in my left hand, Bongo's in my right, we walk the streets at night and
Max the cat darts in and out, brushing our feet with its tail as it repeatedly swooshes
past, turns, and then flops onto its back sporting a Cheshire grin. The cat is
definitely mad (his full name 'is' Mad Max), and I now understand that a plain,
dualistic world view makes no sense at all.
Take my youngest son's current undertaking for example. He's
in the IDF. He's a soldier with a really big gun that he brings home with him
on the weekends. He was always a very sensitive boy, with emotions like a
bull's-eye painted upon his chest. From his experience with such things, and
after he began to grow into the giant that he is today, back in high school, he
took it upon himself to protect the younger kids from bullies. I was proud
then, and I'm even more proud now. He's a very emotional young man, innocent in
so many ways, yet holding such power and integrity… I am so, so proud of his
accomplishments. How can it be that this could be so? After all, we lived in
America, the land of the free and home of the brave. We had everything and my
son could have grown up to be anything he wanted, but we hauled him off to the
Middle East in order to be a soldier on the frontline against terror (albeit,
only as an important step and not as a final destination…). Maybe, the answer
is this: Back in the Old Country, we lived in a place that many refer to as
paradise, in Boulder, Colorado. When we moved from America to Israel, my wife
was even quoted in an interview in the local paper when she said, "We are
moving from Paradise to the Promised Land." I think this quote about
covers it, and as a bonus, it is also why duality doesn’t work: Duality is just
too simple, too boxed in, too plain. The truth is big, out there, and never
what it seems…
It's all about the truth, but truth is veiled behind so
many, many layers of everything from opinion to ego, from color to hue, and
from value to grey-scale. Truth is an enigma in this day and age. Ultimately,
the 'only' truth we can possibly know and even attempt to understand is birth…
and death, the entrance and exit points to this world. These are the things of
power, of lasting truth, of wisdom in the world. The moments between are only
stories to pass the time, to build the world with. The moments between define
the world we call real, but are really only just fiction bouncing off the walls
of our finite universe. The truth lies beyond our veiled minds and souls,
waiting for science to produce facts that undeniably establish said truth as
fact. We are afloat in the cosmos, but… thank God... we are
alive!
I hope to see you all at the group exhibition that will open
next week on Monday, the 2nd of February at the University of Tel
Aviv (the show is up all month). If not (or for more information), then please
visit me online at www.doronoll.com or on
Facebook at just plain 'doronoll.'
Looking forward to seeing / hearing from you all soon!