RENDERED

It is easy to add grandiosity. Like buying a magazine at the airport, every person closes his eyes and hums quietly – just enough to facilitate a slight vibration in the skull. Like wearing gloves in the pool, every person behaves confidently, having pocketed his painted ignorance from birth to the void. Every thing that exists careens indifferently about the great vacuum.

In The Blue Bird by Maurice Maeterlinck two children, Mytyl and Tyltyl, are given a hat with a magical jewel on it – when the jewel is inverted, the children see the souls of things. The children embark on an epic visionquest in search of the blue bird of happiness. They travel with Light, Bread, Milk, Fire, Sugar, Water, the dog and cat – all now with human faces and the ability to talk – and the good fairy Berylune.  First, they visit the underworld where they make the acquaintance of the queen of the realm – Night – and her children, Sleep and Death.

The most pleasurable activity is articulation, particularly when you do not understand your subject. The manufacture of comprehension is the apotheotic substantiation of the creative urge.  

We render our knowledge.