Pseudo-Socratics, ad infinitum.

As an archivist of eclectica, I like to flood my mind with delightful musings, roving ruminations, and a sundry and playful effluvia of light, sound, and movement, and then see what happens.

Raison d'etre: It is important never to forget that, even given the most prohibiting odds, one is always free to think extravagantly, dangerously, and with all the gracious aplomb inherent to one possessing a free mind.

I dwell in possibility (hat tip, Emily Dickinson), and I'm not gonna die in 4/4 time (ditto, Moondog.) I believe "-isms" are fun, but "is" is better. The jazz age, space age, metaphysics - in thought and in verse - the same as for form/matter, essence/existence, and dance, space, time, space-time, movement, et al. all serve to inform and inspire me.

Culture is human, but camp is sublime.

The Greek lyric poet Sappho once wrote, "I could not hope to touch the sky with my two arms." I am glad that this is so, because it admits reason to explore with the mind what is inaccessible to the scope of the other senses, and in the distance between the view from here and that which transcends its reach, there is room enough for wonder, the best exaltation I know.

For this, I rarely find reason to stifle curiosity of any kind - the better to aid discovery, my dear.

“But in contentment I still feel
The need of some imperishable bliss.”
Wallace Stevens, "Sunday Morning"

"I'll never get used to anything. Anybody that does, they might as well be dead." - Holly Golightly in Truman Capote's novella, Breakfast at Tiffany's, 1958

"The cure for boredom is curiosity. There is no cure for curiosity." - Dorothy Parker