I think the reason I’m so attracted to indeterministic processes is because I actually don’t believe in chance and instead what I think happens is I’m opening the door for something that’s trying really hard to not be found. It’s that same strange thing that talks to you when you take over an eighth of mushrooms. The thing that tells you exactly what you need to hear in order to make the most out of your next day. It’s that same thing that pushes the ball in a direction when it’s perched perfectly on the tip of a needle and there’s no gravity or wind. When you roll the dice how do really know there wasn’t a nudge from unseen forces during a split millisecond between tumbles. Whenever you leave her an opening she will seep in and select a thought from a collage of thoughts created by the dopaminergic surge. And maybe I’m writing this about my work. Or maybe about a girl who decided to text me the same day Animal Collective released Painting With. I’m glad we’re on good terms now, because I stopped listening to one of my favorite bands because of her. I’m glad we’re on good terms now, because I would often eat too many mushrooms and slip into a depressive coma with dreams of things I could have done better, but now I think of fractals and love. Now I keep getting that I’m-gonna-save-the-world-with-music trip. My ego wants to compose micromontage music for the sake of intellectual prowess, but that thing above my ego (probably another ego) wants to write dancy stuff for the purpose of healing hearts. I’m glad I read a bunch of essays by Cage, because now I perceive heartbreak as chance phenomena. This thing that happens in order to set in motion a series of events which ultimately lead to riffs, collages, poems, and I don’t dare think of trading these things for money, because unclosed loops tend to generate feedback which oscillates in the heart and if you eat a lot of cheese like I do you cannot afford it. Basically. Let it end at your art. I finally finished another collage after about six months of mood swings and daunting MBA coursework. The time spent making collages is my time and that’s my reward and that’s why I don’t wanna sell my shit, because money doesn’t justify inner turmoil the way art does.
fahad baseer 