THE TREE OF THE MIND

 

The mind is a vast, echoing castle, where every hidden chamber holds an emotion, a memory, a silent dream waiting to be discovered.  





The evident laudanum of the artist of the mind  is aliquid stat pro aliquo of medieval philosop
hers: semiotics. It is a mental drug that mind’s artist administered in small doses to those who interact with him. An ointment of the same quality and value of almond oil and beeswax, a tonic of vital hardening.

 

Within the fortress of the mind, secret gardens of joy and shadowed dungeons of sorrow lie concealed, each a testament to the soul's intricate architecture.

 

The lesson of the Artist retains all its truth. His categorical and unconditional mental imperative is that: to an input corresponds an output, to a communicative verbal sign or non-verbal, corresponds an emotional response. In essence, it is not a rational contradiction reading the semiotics of a text and decipher the emotional structures visible or hidden of a soul. His gentle eyes – anything but secular – reveal his knowledge of the anatomy of inner man.

 

 

Our thoughts are but the tapestries adorning the grand halls of the mind, yet beneath them lie the true foundation: the hidden, surging rivers of emotion.

 

Once in the auditorium of the human mind, he does emphatically his worship anything but prosaic: from the tree of silence he collects the fruit of non-verbal. All this leaves us perplexed, amazed. The Artist is not transformed into a theatrical props, not a dreamer shaky, and in the proscenium of life he does not suck languidly suffering to beg the truth, because it was written in the faces of those he meets. Just read it.

 

There is always a hidden message to be deciphered in everyday life. A mental image, a memory, an experience, a stimulus of conscious or subconscious, is reflected almost like a transfert in the nonverbal communication. The mind’s Artist is the heat to the wax. By a crowd of mediocre out a man who has a vision. Quality wins over quantity.

 

The human mind: logic guards the gates, but emotions run free like the wind. Only GOD holds the key to the human mind and heart.

 

Here is our luministic Raffaello of mental and physical signal. Alike Blake, he has a quality, a natural inclination far from dull or meaningless, one that only a great man and a great spirit has: he read the symbolic. He can be a prophet of the cognitive process, but he is not GOD.

 

QUARTAVEL ©

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