Turkeys are glamping on the grounds.
Coyote songs echo.
The forest undergrowth has gone to sleep, and Tamaracks grace mountain flanks.
Lie on the ground now.
Play angels in the leaves.
Make patterns to embrace the coming snow.
How stellar we are.
It is the dancing season.
The culture of the USA is anathema to the intuitive creativity required for discoveries in the quantum world: the same working intuition of the artist.
After Robert Falcon Scott’s expedition to the South Pole, his youngest crew member, Apsley Cherry-Garrard wrote, in his book, The Worst Journey in the World, “For we are a nation of shopkeepers,
and no shopkeeper will look at research which does not promise him a financial return within a year…
If you march your Winter Journey, you will have your reward, so long as all you want is a penguin’s egg.”
(Refer to the book to understand the reference to a penguin’s egg.)
By not looking toward the long term potential of what, at the moment, seems improbable, we create
a culture of the mundane.
Genius cannot fully flourish within short term constraints.
Scientific intuition is a river. If it is dammed by financial constraints, if it cannot be free to pursue its
vision – its explanation of that improbable – of the both/and – not the either/or – we are doomed to a life of sellers and buyers, without dreamers and doers.
Art is a language of science. Once we have a language, we can transmit our thought.
Art makes reality visible. Sub-atomic particles are known by their effect. Art is their result. (re-think that)