the thickness of space

There is a thing called architecture and a thing called art.
There is a thing called art and a thing called culture.

Culture is the thing that matters most; for with culture we seek and find our friends from the present and in the past; we re-invent their absence in a way which develops our character enabling a certain future.

Lets consider that the space between us – that air – is a cloud, a space which does not enable visual contact – but provides a thickness, a density with perhaps a more direct or physical link between us. Closeness and thickness is thereby audible and frightening.
Through this ‘fear’ by absence of seeing, communication is enabled and silence forbids it.

The thin space has in it the presence of all history’s ghosts and all of culture’s spirit.

There are gifts in this space, for without seeing, we feel the character of matter – strangely, without a familiar presence of things their presence becomes more powerful.

In this strange example, we can imagine that every detail at every part of our sensory ability can develop our consciousness; can cultivate our being.

Locating our psychological and psychometrical place is a subtle matter; especially in our world lost in the transparent space in which we now all possibly exist; a space which holds so many things which are invisible that sit beyond our comprehension but lay still within our deeper knowledge; our meditative knowledge that some call faith.
There are so many beautiful things that lay beyond our capacity to feel, to hear, to smell, to see and to taste.

Suppose that what mattered most is the sense of sense itself.

Yesterday, I was in a private palace in Barcelona. In it were paintings borrowed from the Prado; of masters, the wallpaper was art itself, the lights, the floors, the ceilings, the furniture. Strangely, however, the most beautiful thing for me was a moment of hearing the guitars of a flamenco choir in the adjoining chapel which had cryptic access from the palace.
This was a beauty I did not see.
And I suppose this is something worth praying for,
a beauty we haven’t seen,
a thing that deals with our future loves;
that presence of space between us which is transparent but thick with the ghosts and spirits of the souls of all those present and past and which space is in no time and of no time
but in a moment of un-captured time in our omnipresent future called potential.

For the beauty that we did not see is most beautiful of all
as our mind is a more wonderful giver of form than our eyes.

Angelo Candalepas
from within a cloud
(flight out of Barcelona)
11am 20 September 2009