The pathetic fallacy – cerebral destinations finding outward motions – the hubris of the realisations of cumulonimbus super-clouds propelled by Winter’s vertical updrafts.
Splaying like explosions of ideas from the heads of gods.
The idea of a god is a magnification of a human reality, a disproportionate projection of emotional needs, essentially false in the face of external scenes of cloud activity.
Light is the ingredient of efficacy that defines the mix, and the mix becomes a mood, or a reflection of one, not in itself a degree of consciousness but . . .
The power of conception in itself is triggered by the absorption of what is seen and felt in the evidence of its surroundings.
This produces an emotional response which is projected outward upon the composition of the surroundings that are absorbed in the first place.
It is an emotional water cycle – not a false proposition – not a fallacy, after all – but an affirmation of agency in the framework of Nature – not its separation from the object of its appraisal but its attachment to the core conditions of the sublime.
Setting ourselves apart from Nature is an act of disowning ourselves for what we are.
We transform ourselves into Nature’s opposition.
We become a pathetic fallacy of a diferent kind than Ruskin intended.
And this is our loss – a loss of ourselves in the core of miracles – the arrival of our species to a point of eating its own tail.