- Dajian Huineng (638 - 713)
Case 23 of Mumonkan
Tuesday, March 17, 2026
Original Face
Wednesday, March 11, 2026
Ceasing to Stir
environmental phenomena will void themselves;
let principles cease to stir and events
will cease stirring of themselves.
...
Ordinary people look to their surroundings,
while followers of the Way look to Mind,
but the true Dharma is to forget them both.
...
I assure you that one who comprehends
the truth of 'nothing to be attained' is
already seated in the sanctuary where
he will gain his Enlightenment."
- Huang Po (? - 850)
The Zen Teaching of Huang-Po:
On the Transmission of Mind
Tuesday, February 17, 2026
Everything is Flowing
animals and so-called lifeless
rocks as well as water."
- John Muir (1838 - 1914)
Thursday, February 12, 2026
"Our Intellect Ingulphs Itself so Far"
Doth penetrate the universe, and shine
In one part more and in another less.
...
Within that heaven which most his light receives
Was I, and things beheld which to repeat
Nor knows, nor can, who from above descends;
...
Because in drawing near to its desire
Our intellect ingulphs itself so far,
That after it the memory cannot go."
- Dante Alighieri (1265 - 1321)
Divine Comedy / Paradiso
Translation above by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Sunday, January 25, 2026
Mimir’s Well
preserved by the waters that feed the world ash,
seeing nothing, seeing everything. Time."
- Neil Gaiman (1960 - )
Norse Mythology
Tuesday, January 06, 2026
The Mysticism of Numbers
he is not only doing mathematics, he is
on the path to the mysticism of numbers
in Pythagoras and Vitruvius and Kepler,
to the Trinity and the signs of the Zodiac."
- Jacob Bronowski (1908 - 1974)
Wednesday, December 31, 2025
Sage Stillness
they mirror themselves in still water.
Only what is still can still the
stillness of other things."
- Chuang Tzu (c.369 B.C. - c.286 B.C.)
Friday, December 26, 2025
What Are Things?
- Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844 - 1889)
Quoted in Realist Magic: Objects, Ontology, Causality,
by Timothy Morton (1968 - )
Friday, December 19, 2025
Fossilized Marvin
I can see in infrared,
How I hate the night.
He paused to gather the artistic and
emotional strength to tackle the next verse.
Now I lay me down to sleep,
Try to count electric sheep,
Sweet dream wishes you can keep,
How I hate the night.
...
- Douglas Adams (1952 - 2001)
Hitchiker's Guide to The Galaxy
Photographer's note. This is an "old" image from a trip my wife I took to Niagara Falls, Canada a little over two years ago. I stumbled across it by accident while searching for something else on my hard drive, but now can't stop "seeing" it as some absurd Douglas-Adams-esque fossilization of Marvin-the-Robot - and I bet that now you won't be able to either 😊:
Saturday, October 11, 2025
Zen Compositions
- Alan Watts (1915 - 1973)
Postscript. My last post explained what my recent series of "autumnal abstracts" has to do with quantum mechanics. This post is meant to convey the complementary explanation of what my autumnal abstracts have to do with Zen. Leaving aside the unintentional recursivity of the word "complementary" (since the concept has a formal meaning in quantum mechanics), here is an alternative summary of how using knee-high waterproof boots to get "up close and personal" to patterns of leaves in the creek - ostensibly to get better compositions - failed miserably. As I explained in the last post, no matter how slowly I approached a clump of leaves, invariably, the ripples induced in the water by my boots would dislodge one or more of the key elements of whatever composition I saw in my mind's eye. By the time I stood over the spot where I saw the original pattern, most of the leaves were gone. Here is where the Zen side of story begins...
The first day I donned my boots, it took me about a dozen attempts to learn how to "minimally disturb" whatever it was that caught my eye; to emphasize, not one, two or a few tries, but an embarrassingly many attempts. It was vastly harder than I anticipated. At some point - after my 3rd or 4th failure - I dejectedly poked my tripod into the water, angry with myself at being unable to do such a "simple” thing. So there I stood, knee-deep in water, immersed in a euphonious Siren call of delicately beautiful patterns I so wished to capture but which vanished the instant I approached them, when the absurdity of it all finally struck me like a Zen-master's cane! I doubled over with laughter, as multiple versions of Alan Watt's "the harder we try to catch hold of the moment..." aphorisms leapt to mind.
Adding to this genuinely Zen-like moment was the fact that two joggers just happened to be close enough to see and hear me. They both turned in unison to see what the source of the absurd laughter was. Without breaking stride or uttering a word, they just stared at what from their perspective must have seemed a "not quite all there and possibly drunk photographer" and ran off into the woods. I laughed for a few more moments, resolved to remember this little creek's Zen lesson, and resumed searching for interesting and evanescent patterns.
So, are my (still ongoing) "autumnal abstracts" a lesson in quantum mechanics? in Zen? or something else entirely? In the end, it's all just a matter of perspective 😊
Monday, October 06, 2025
Replenishing My Soul
- C. G. Jung (1875-1961)
The Earth Has a Soul
Postscript. Some of you may have noticed that for the past month or so I have been posting "autumnal abstracts" consisting mostly of small, intimate compositions of leaves, rocks, reflections and gentle water flow. But while these rapid-fire posts may seem like I have had a "lot of time on my hands," the truth is actually the reverse. But therein lies an important (albeit "obvious") lesson for all creatives: when you objectively have "no time" for creative endeavors, force yourself to find a pocket of time, however small - it can be measured in minutes! - to nourish your soul. Of course, this is particularly hard to achieve after enduring a long string of "day job" hours; in my case, 10+ hours days consisting of working on endless equations and computer code, and dealing with recursively multiplying deadlines for deliverables). As the "day job" hours increase so does the need to to recharge; unfortunately, since fatigue also grows (in my case, exponentially) with "day job" effort, there is a point of no return wherein you'll find yourself too tired to carve out what (at this point, is now a critically vital) "pocket of time" to recharge. So what does one do? In my case, when I am able to work from home, I force myself to stop work about an hour before the sun sets, grab a camera and tripod, and drive a few miles to a local trail that runs along a small creek. I park my car at the end of a residential cul-de-sac and walk about 300 feet to a "little bridge" ... (iPhone panorama):
It is here around this little bridge and the shallow leaf-strewn creek that I let my soul breath for however many precious few minutes I have until the sun sets, while my eye happily searches for intimate compositions of leaves, rocks, reflections and gentle water flow! 15 to 20 minutes in this oasis is usually all I need (and, often, all I have) to forget about me equations and replenish my soul.
In my next post, I'll explain what these "autumnal abstracts" have to do with quantum mechanics, albeit from a more whimsical than physics perspective.
Wednesday, September 17, 2025
The Spiritual-Abstract Nexus
- Maurice Tuchman (1936 - )
“Hidden Meanings in Abstract Art"
in The Spiritual in Art: Abstract Painting 1890-1985
Tuesday, September 16, 2025
The Cosmic Being
On every side pervading, he fills a space ten fingers wide.
This Purusha is all that yet hath been and all that is to be;
The Lord of Immortality which waxes greater still by food.
...
Forth from his navel came mid-air the sky was fashioned from his head
- Rg Veda 10.90 - Purusha Sukta (~ 1500 - 1000 BCE)
Monday, September 08, 2025
One Soul
- Marcus Aurelius (121 - 180)
Meditations
- Nikola Tesla (1856 - 1943)
"We cannot fathom the marvelous complexity of an organic being; but on the hypothesis here advanced (pangenesis) this complexity is much increased. Each living creature must be looked at as a microcosm - formed of a host of self-propagating organisms, inconceivably minute, and as numerous as the stars of heaven."
- Charles Darwin (1809 - 1882)
Sunday, September 07, 2025
Made of Pattern
- Fritjof Capra (1939 - ) and Pier Luigi Luisi (1938 - )
The Systems View of Life: A Unifying Vision
Saturday, September 06, 2025
Ordinary Contemplation
- Evelyn Underhill (1875 - 1941)
Practical Mysticism: A Little Book for Normal People and Abba
Tuesday, September 02, 2025
Things in Their Very Essence
- Edward Weston (1886 - 1958)
Tuesday, August 19, 2025
Shamanic Dance
- Terence McKenna (1946 - 2000)
Postscript. This is an "old" (almost two year old) image that I had inexplicably not processed from its raw state until having recently "discovered" it on my hard drive while looking for another (completely unrelated) picture. It's not that I did not think of it as a “keeper" worth processing soon after I captured it; rather, I simply overlooked it before I moved on to other things. It's existence is a reminder that our hard drives are likely full of "old and forgotten" (perhaps never properly "seen" and/or processed) photographs, behooving us to set aside time every once in a while to retrace old steps. The image depicts a tiny waterfall my wife and I passed while walking from the parking lot we left our car in on the Canadian side of Niagara falls in October 2023 (specifically, at Dufferin Islands Nature Area) to the falls themselves. Intriguingly, it is this shot (or something very close to it) - and, saliently, not an image of Niagara Falls themselves - that my brain conjures as a mental image whenever I hear "Niagara Falls" mentioned; and that (for me) depicts the "soul" of Niagara so much more directly (certainly, more poetically) than the iPhone panorama that appears below.
Little did I realize that my mental image is a memory of an experience I had forgotten I'd photographed. Perhaps, with a nod to shamanic truths, I do not realize that my life is a but memory of an experience I had forgotten I'm always living!
Wednesday, July 30, 2025
Friday, May 30, 2025
Subliminal Worlds
- Carlos Castaneda (1925 - 1998)
The Active Side of Infinity























