Broken Postcard · Nature, Man & The Future

Thoughts On Nature, Man, Teleology & The Future

in Art, Consciousness, Death, Design, Humanism, Images, Philosophy, Poetry, The World, Thoughts by Alexander Crockett | No comments

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This was a moment in time. The second the shutter captured the light, even before that the moment ended. Lens cap on feet trod on through the mud toward another spot in the forest. Sun shining, the light foaming through the atmosphere the freshness betrayed a deeper truth to the scene. Ants, birds, flowers and vine crawling through in a world with a hidden complexity, every crack a cranny of life; each and every colour not by accident passing the lens of my eye, transforming at each moment from the electrons that make them up to the empty space between, life buzzed with energy. Even the epiphenomena served their purpose as they come to do in nature, much like human consciousness purpose, function, the very raison_d’être a teleology by human standards. As nature would have it every new phenomena become as much a part of the whole as all preceding mutations served their purpose to all their temporal descendants. And through of the present, the minute transformation of life of which my camera only captured a instant I stood there on a Sunday afternoon overhwlemed by the present. This symmetry is no accident, it is by nature that this picture could be taken, it is by evolution that the image can be carried forward, for your eyes to see, for your mind to comprehend, and in all of this; in both the natural world and in technology we are left intrisically embedded in nature.
Birth, growth, decay; year by year, month by month as much in the forest as anywhere else. The cosmic struggle to survive goes beyond this image and at times leaves a sense of almost futile apathy. Without even noticing the cycle of creation and decay exist as much for the universe as it does for an ant in the wood, like a universal principle guiding the whole of what exists existence itself turns on its head. One day our galaxy will collide with Andromeda and the likely result will be the total annihilation of the woodland in this image along with what we think to be our solar system, and with total entropy the universe that can sustain life in any system will itself dissipitate and a darkness will loom over whatever it is that existence is.
The harmony in this picture is almost a cliché. Yet that very harmony is also the seat of our anxieties; we are commited not just to life but to certainty, yet the certainty that we have made our commitment to is a fleeting irrelevance beyond the boundries of our minds. It is not for nothing that the truth Sisyphus imparted to the humans from the gods was his own punishment and it is not for nothing that the answer to our own survival lies in his own punsishment, not to struggle but to live each breath and take in each moment of majesty that nature has allowed us to acquiesce in. It is the struggle for life that defines us, but it is the majesty of living that makes us. And that seems to be the irony of this image, it is only through the reflection we can achieve away from the immediacy of life that life as a whole begins to bear meaning.
From unity with nature to disunity from it; the duality of man and nature and of man have encouraged a new system in which we are the progenitors of our own destruction through nature, and yet with an almost poetic twist we are forced not just to face nature, we are forced to face ourselves within the natural world. We are the creators of a future that is now embedded in a world we have created, and the poetry is that we have now come into closer proximity with the very nature that the industrial age and the enlightenment sought to surpass.
Madness seems to me to be a subjective word. There are plenty of definitions, and many of them go out of flavour. However, there is a degree of insanity to our predicament, and a healthy one. Our rationalism has in part caused the conditions of our fate and it is the same rationalism that will navigate us through the twisted strands of fate. It is to the woods that we must find our reflection in order to regain the remnants of sanity we seek, and it is in unison with them that we must also look to the future.

This was a moment in time. The second the shutter captured the light, even before that the moment ended. Lens cap on feet trod on through the mud toward another spot in the forest. Sun shining, the light foaming through the atmosphere the freshness betrayed a deeper truth to the scene. Ants, birds, flowers and vine crawling through in a world with a hidden complexity, every crack a cranny of life; each and every colour not by accident passing the lens of my eye, transforming at each moment from the electrons that make them up to the empty space between, life buzzed with energy. Even the epiphenomena served their purpose as they come to do in nature, much like human consciousness, purpose, function, the very raison d’être a teleology by any human standard. As nature would have it every new phenomena becomes as much a part of the whole as all preceding mutations served their purpose to all their temporal descendants. And through of the present, the minute transformation of life of which my camera only captured an instant I stood there on a Sunday afternoon overhwlemed by the present.

This symmetry is no accident, it is by nature that this picture could be taken; it is by evolution that the image can be carried forward for your eyes to see, for your mind to comprehend, and in all of this for the whole to be as much a physical as a mental reality; in both the natural world and in technology we are left intrisically embedded in nature.

Birth, growth, decay; year by year, month by month as much in the forest as anywhere else. The cosmic struggle to survive goes beyond this image and at times leaves a sense of almost futile apathy. Without even noticing, the cycle of creation and decay exist as much for the universe as it does for an ant in the wood. Like a universal principle guiding the whole of what exists, existence itself turns on its head. One day our galaxy will collide with Andromeda and the likely result will be the total annihilation of the woodland in this image along with what we think to be our solar system, and with total entropy further on in the future the universe that can sustain life in any system we know will itself dissipitate and a darkness will loom over whatever it is that existence is.

The harmony in this picture is almost a cliché. Yet that very harmony is also the seat of our anxieties; we are commited not just to life but to certainty, yet the certainty that we have made our commitment to is a fleeting irrelevance beyond the boundries of our minds. It is not for nothing that the truth Sisyphus imparted to the humans from the gods was his own punishment and it is not for nothing that the answer to our own survival lies in his own punsishment, not to struggle but to live each breath and take in each moment of majesty that nature has allowed us to acquiesce in. It is the struggle for life that defines us, but it is the majesty of living that makes us. And that seems to be the irony of this image, it is only through the reflection we can achieve away from the immediacy of life that life as a whole begins to bear meaning.

From unity with nature to disunity from it; the duality of man and nature and of man have encouraged a new system in which we are the progenitors of our own destruction through nature, and yet with an almost poetic twist we are forced not just to face nature, we are forced to face ourselves within the natural world. We are the creators of a future that is now embedded in a world we have created, and the poetry is that we have now come into closer proximity with the very nature that the industrial age and the enlightenment sought to surpass.

Madness seems to me to be a subjective word. There are plenty of definitions, and many of them go out of flavour. However, there is a degree of insanity to our predicament, and a healthy one. Our rationalism has in part caused the conditions of our fate and it is the same rationalism that will navigate us through the twisted strands of fate. It is to the woods that we must find our reflection in order to regain the remnants of sanity we seek, and it is in unison with them that we must also look to the future.

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