the moon rose from behind a cloud. Everything around that had been nebulous took seperate shape.

Thus: the soul, having cast out its body as an unnecessary ballast, is at times caught up by the hurricanes of its own movements. They sweep through the spaces of the soul. Yes the body is a fragile vessel, sailing off on the ocean of the soul toward a spiritual mainland.
Thus-
Imagine: a rope is would around your body at the waist, the rope is pulled and you begin spinning with indescribable speed. In ever widening circles you fly head down, back forward. You will fly off into measureless immensities of the universe, overcoming spaces while becoming spaces.
You are caught up by such a hurricane when the body is cast out as unnessary ballast.
Just imagine: a point of the body experiences the urge to expand without measure, to expand to a horrible extent (and to occupy a space equal in diameter to the orbit of Saturn). Imagine that you consciously sense not only one point, but all the points. They have all swollen up and have rarefied into a gaseous state. The planets have begun to circulate freely in the voids of your body's molecules. The centripetal sensation has been lost; we are blown to bits; and only the consciousness of shattered sensation remains whole.
What would we then sense?
We would sense that the detached organs are separated from one another by horrible billions of miles. But consciousness knits together a blatant and hideous monstrosity which at the same time lacks wholeness. We feel the seething of Saturn's masses in the spine. The stars of constellations eat their way into the brain. In the center of the seething heart we feel the diseased joltings of the entire heart. The solar streams of fire, thrown off from the sun had moved into this fiery, senselessly beating center.
Were we able to imagine this, before us would rise up the first stages of the life of the soul, which as cast off the body from itself.

Andrei Bely - Petersburg

It must be abstract It must change It must give pleasure

the real unreal: the unnameable: the howl: the ineffable: the iridescent: the void: the origin of change: the muddy centre before we breathed: the myth before the myth: the first idea in violet space: a passion felt, not understood: the anonymous colour of the universe: the savage plainness: the silence: the vulgate: the gibberish: the hermit in poet’s metaphors: the to and fro both at once: the alpha omega: the round and round like wine at a table: dark things without a double: the exactest point at which the thing is itself: the movable, the moment: the permanent impermanent: the indifferent eye: the big X: the dominant blank, the unapproachable: the cold and earliness and bright origin: the bodiless half: the clearing for outpouring: the single sleep: the intricate evasions: the senseless element: the coming on and coming forth: the final form: the clearness: the traversing shade: the rugged and luminous, chants in the dark: the and yet, and yet, and yet: the possible, possible, possible…



Yves Klein, Wallace Stevens

zal

"Bach is like an astronomer who, with the help of ciphers, finds the most wonderful stars. Beethoven infuses the universe with the power of his spirit. I do not climb so high. A long time ago, I decided my universe would be the soul and heart of man."
- Frédéric François Chopin

WSJ

monomyth

"For centuries Daedalus has represented the type of artist-scientist: that curiously disinterested, almost diabolic human phenomenon, beyond the normal bounds of social judgment, dedicated to the morals not of his time but of his art. He is the hero of the way of though - singlehearted, courageous, and all full of faith that the truth, as he finds it, shall make us free.

... Furthermore, we have not even to risk the adventure alone; for the heroes of all time have gone before us; the labyrinth is thoroughly known; we have only to follow the thread of the hero-path. And where we had thought to find an abomination, we shall find a god; where we had thought to slay another, we shall slay ourselves; where we had thought to travel outward, we shall come to the center of our own existence; where we had thought to be alone, we shall be with all the world."

Joseph Campbell - The Hero With a Thousand Faces

strange comfort

to be looked upon fully and disappear completely, to be regarded rather than understood, to be seen straight on and able to have myself to myself, invisible and blinding - what a different scope from the orbit of twin planets whose identical gravity keep each other at bay, abreast, apart, looking sideways in sharp clarity of the improbable, elusive other.

which is the vision of one adored, understood, and alone, in whole and in pieces? (∞)

Α: a vague myth, a pagan worship, amoebic contented bows before the Giant Eye, assured
Ω: sharp, clear, rendered, fully understood and without, to chase

AND THE ANSWER IS!

(Ο)

(hint: together, form a circle, both, one and none)

titan

“To my mind,” Dr. Porco said, “most people go through life recoiling from its best parts. They miss the enrichment that just a basic knowledge of the physical world can bring to the most ordinary experiences. It’s like there’s a pulsating, hidden world, governed by ancient laws and principles, underlying everything around us — from the movements of electrical charges to the motions of the planets — and most people are completely unaware of it.

“To me, that’s a shame."

here