Alblackica Clock Series I : The Extinct Sepal of Sunyata in the Faith-Circle of Neolithic-Holograms




The Extinct Sepal of Sunyata in the Faith-Circle of Neolithic-Holograms 

The grey rhombus is the square of the elliptical moon that doesn’t exist, only man can make him know if it’s simply a circle with mask of a flower or is it a beehive with the droplets of honeyed-rain that sphere in the cirrocumulus clouds without any desire or anything to represent. They do not exist on their own but only in the mind as it thinks they exist, the art and the nature, the birds and the beasts. But history tells that they did before the age of National Geograpic, in the archaic horns of a rhino that subtly felt the crimson sun setting with the hippotamus in the lakes of an open set, in the Sunyata that appears on the blank prose of an open rhyme or in the terza rime of seraphic mountains over the Sufrehi, looking towards the hippodrome amidst the pillars and the pines of the Mixolydian , Ionian and Aeolian modes. There they are observed like a phenomena that occurs, without the mind there is nothing real or subjective; the kite is not a kite to a Neolithic man but the hard rocks are shrapnel to defend a system of his thoughts that exist because he sees and hears, and sniffs the firewood to burn the proteins that are observed chains of amino acids closely linked to the evolution of the creation and what is this system of constellations if they are not in the mind as something real and participatory; no they don’t exist on their own they are dependent on us like electrons and positrons that are apparently due to some quantum events.

Energy and matter interlock in the art only because the water is the surface of the wind which is the vast ocean of delightful poise in the al-qamar planes of the alblackica mind. The dance is the quixotical sheep of a hydrogen bomb that disappears in the open wise words of an Autolycus song “When daffodils begin to peer,/With heigh! The doxy over the dale,/Why then comes in the sweet o’ the year/For the red blood reigns in the winter’s pale.” To the ancient brick-time of the extinct-sepal it’s the Shakespearean hypothesis of Stephen Hawkins in the Haight-Ashbury era that makes common man speak what he can before he is diagnosed with Staphylococcus in an asylum of hospitals that also doesn’t exist here or anywhere else in the world. The hot air balloon is flying in the sky with patches of the lamb’s wool that had the hologram of the Neolithic man.

– Joy Roy Choudhury

Ref: Inflatable Flying Pigs/Pink Floyd Animal’s Tour 1977