Cloudfold

September 20, 2019

Cloudfold

I find myself writing again. I got discouraged after an auto update deleted all my data. But while on a flight to see my dear baby sister,  I was looking outside the window and saw that we were flying through a cloud; a translucent veil of cloudy mist reveals only more clouds below. The sky sovereign above our aerial cruise. 

I am cloudwatching. The last time I did was with Renzo, a dear friend of mine. We would jam outside the music room beneath the sky in the key of D: just two classical guitars in dialog with the sky. 

The philosopher Martin Heidegger describes existence as coming to presence through the "fourfold": earth, divinity, mortal and sky" (See Building, Dwelling, Thinking). Through this quartet manifold do we relate to the world poetically. We are above the ground, beneath the sky, among others and, most difficulty, relate to higher powers/beings. 

And here I am, engaging with the vast openness of the sky, with more above. The horizon not merely a straight line, but a cascade of cloud ranges; air and water taking such detailed shapes yet can't be felt as we imagine them. The world indeed is opening up, but in what capacity? Flying is such a unique privilege. The window presents quite an unusual view to the land-dweller. The sky is no place for dwelling; the land beckons; the divine calls forth. 

I write, hundreds of feet from the ground, streaks of clouds pass me by; the occasional jet zooming through. Some clouds look like giant floating islands, or look like they're becoming one. They are so vivid; below only vague miniature depictions of the earth lived on is seen-- from afar.

I close my eyes and think of my body, I don't feel like I'm moving at 300 km/h. I'm stationary in myself yet my mind extends space: I am here but also becoming there. I find my breath; we are united in flux – the saving power of technology: this flying metal bird; the life giving breath. This givenness: in and out– this is the presencing of the divine.