In Pullman's His Dark Materials trilogy -- which I've been plugging endlessly as of late -- one of the main characters, the boy Will has a tool, a 'subtle' knife, that can open up other worlds. He does this by carefully 'cutting' into the fabric of the air wherever he is, and a successful cut opens up a portal to another dimension of the exact same location. Pullman's use of this wonderful device is as good and engaging an analogy for the human mind and its infinite capacity for storytelling as I've read, and I've read many books in my time.

Two Wednesdays ago, I went to San Francisco and met up with some of you, to hear Philip Pullman read from the latest and last of his trilogy, The Amber Spyglass. It turned out to be a most intriguing experience as, looking back, I now see that many dimensions opened up to me that day, in ways subtle and obvious. And all those 'worlds' were, in their unique ways, awe-inspiring.

the observant will notice that, in yesterday's 'rainy weather' weblog, i used the picture above. but it didn't quite fit, so i replaced it with what's there now. you see, i was in pretty much a blue funk and it wasn't just the weather i was talking about; so i wanted to use a picture that felt 'relevant' to me. i was sad because Trev had decided to stop weblogging... and he didn't say why. he couldn't tell me why. in case you're wondering, in the end i don't mind if any of you don't weblog any more; just so long as i know what the reason is--even if it's just because you're weary of weblogging and don't have time any more. i can deal with that. what i can't wrap my mind around is if you give me no reason at all. just silence. particularly if you reassure me that it has nothing to do with what anyone here has said; i would worry all the more, and saying nothing won't do any good at all, or assuage any paranoid fears on my part. the way Aaron did it stands as a model of how quitting weblogging should be done. but for the record, i would of course prefer that you continue weblogging. i don't care if you update just once a week, or only once in a blue moon. just so long as the passage of time is evident on your weblog...

the doubly observant will also notice that first picture above is an inversion of the original image (which you can see by clicking on it). photography itself is a subtle knife. the very act of taking a picture is clearly an act of freezing a moment in time. a (usually) rectangular portal is made, and through it, you can look at how a certain space appeared, at that instant. in a way, you can go back into it, albeit only in memory. the picture itself is of Trev's shadow on the concrete sidewalk... he took a self-portrait, as he was perched on top of a nearby Mercedes-Benz SUV, which he appropriated as his platform for taking a picture of a beautiful black car, of indeterminate vintage... 60s? and so, yesterday, thinking that he was forever gone from this weblogging community, i inverted that shadow picture and put it up, in a cryptic meta-commentary.

At some point, we biked along Dolores Street, as Trev wanted to show me a house with the most amazing mural painted on it. Yes, on the whole house. (As you can see in this picture. Clicking on it will zoom you in to a detail of the front steps.) There were a couple of trees in the mural and, with that palm tree in front, standing in front of the house the effect was as if you could just walk into that tropical scene. Again, another subtle knife dimension... Houses of course, are also portals: gateways to the anonymous lives within, and certainly repositories of an endless cycle of stories... people being born, dying, celebrating, mourning, and just being. Little did I know too, at the moment Trev took that photograph (perched on top of a van that was conveniently parked out front), the jaguar in the mural would replicate itself a mere hour later, on the wall of the restaurant where we had dinner with the other kids who were joining us for the Pullman reading.

and when that awful theft happened, and the thug made off with Trev's beautiful bike like it was the simplest thing in his world to do, it was like someone among us -- the anti-Lloyd, or the anti-Trev -- had used a subtle knife to open up a nightmarish world where thievery is the norm, where humans don't care about each other and are just out for themselves. so, fine... that's what our world really is, often enough. no need for any stinking subtle knives, eh? we're already here. but in the end, i will refuse to accept that bleak outlook as well. simple evil may be rampant, but it isn't inherent in everyone. it requires a breakdown of sorts to become less compassionate, less caring, out-of-balance.

we are all subtle knives, each one of us... capable -- with the sharp edge and the infinite singularity of our minds -- to open up worlds of our own choosing. what we do with this tool is what it means to be human, sentient and alive.

there will be other bikes in other worlds, my young friend. what remains important are the bonds that do not require the weight of entropic things.

{ net.casting }
^