Music is a magnet to our attention.
Like a light bulb has insects dash into the halo – out of ignorance,
They penetrate it to death.
Magnetized by the audio stream, our presence withers.
Visual stimuli are less compelling…they suffer from the possibility their victim has to simply look away.
We cannot hear away.
Here, audio stimuli have a much stronger hold.
What attracts us in those realms of experience is in the range of animality.
What retains us there has to do with emotional entertainment.
Every emotion raised unfolds a body-mind landscape, woven with psychological memories and colored by a specific ‘vascular mood’.
We visit this landscape in the artificial light of former elements – sometimes created by ourselves for the occasion.
There is a parallel to be drawn with news channels, whose business objective is to keep us watching as long as possible. For that purpose, they tinkle heavily on the keyboard along the notes of sensational scales.
When experiencing the audio stream, we are simultaneously schedulers, editors and spectators…
And watch those scenes over and over again.
The animality in the hook dragging us this way loses its magnetizing power as soon as it crosses our mindfulness spectrum.
We’re looking at ourselves being hooked and hung…
And getting off the cable dragging us along the emotional landscapes we treasured out of ignorance.
The poet, too often, gets lost in such landscapes. It walks along them and enjoys its subtleties with verve and delight.
He becomes a highly skilled expert…so swift he forgets about the quest for another way of being in the world.
This kind of artist is often praised by society. It perceives such a person as the sensitive, the delicate, delicate, creative, the ’tortured mind’.
On a certain level, they offer an alibi for the group to pursue its ways.
The spiritual poet is more transparent to the world.
He crosses the plains and plateaus of emotions, the forest of illusion, and reads the notebooks from reality’s undercoats.
He listens to the silent sounds.