>>12427102>How do you process the everyday world? When I look, somehow it feels, as if some aspects of the subject of my vision could be divided into discrete objects which compose it.
Out of these distinct objects among the most accessible properties I realize is their individual pattern, as if they had a unique silent voice, made of texture and colorful contrast, they sung as my eyes move across the object, and the object in turn wrung itself around the other objects -- hiding, alluring, though not always. All this in the grand labyrinth of three dimensional space, each object with its own z-level, often melting with the insensibility of the whole as a result of the automaticity that results from stable experience.
Now after they've made their way into the stage of the mind, they might try to compete against existing thoughts which are on stage. If an actor-object is needed, the suitable properties are suggested. To hijack the stage, an object must be made relevant.
The solidity of an object won't hatch if the subtle memories lie there undetected (or unintelligible), or, it might happen instead that I realize quite clearly that there's some memory that makes me reinterpret the object and makes it's first wave in a rather tranquil ocean of thought. Oftentimes it might just serve as a supporting backdrop for a more important memory.
Other times, it's a former processing of such object that instructs how it must be processed, so that it becomes say a part of a greater puzzle. In other cases, the object might have a certain resemblance to the quality of something else, such that it leads to the contagion of an aesthetic idea within the mind, so that the patterns of wood in the door become mysteriously connected nebulae. If then, one keeps thinking about what it conceals, the little patterns become say a demon with a staff, a woman embracing a child as she points to a star, a forest creature -- as if the wood had now become stained glass in an enchanted castle...
