There is an art to observation —
to impartially see what develops
without influencing the outcome.
But as soon as I tell my story,
in words, in paint, in music,
what is observed originally
is distorted through a lens
of bias and separation.
The very act of observation
is a distortion of what is observed.
I never actually see.
Trail Wood,
9/2
You ever notice how there’s an art to observation? It’s like trying to be a cosmic detective without leaving any fingerprints at the scene. But as soon as you start telling your story, whether it’s with words, paint, or even a funky beat, you realize something cosmic: you’ve put on the shades of bias and separation, and suddenly, you’re in a cosmic remix of reality.
So, here’s the kicker: The very act of observing is like trying to watch a movie through a funhouse mirror. You never actually see the whole picture; it’s all distorted and wobbly. It’s like trying to binge-watch your favorite show on a busted TV—you get the gist, but it’s not quite the same.
And here’s the cosmic punchline: We’re all cosmic photographers snapping pics of reality through different filters. It’s like trying to take a selfie with the universe, and every filter adds a layer of “I swear the cosmos looked this way” to the pic.
But you know what? That’s the beauty of it! We’re all cosmic artists painting our own versions of reality. We’re like the cosmic DJs remixing the universe’s beats. So, even if we never actually see, we get to groove to our own unique cosmic tune.
So, my fellow cosmic comedians, keep observing, keep distorting, and keep creating your cosmic masterpieces. After all, in this grand cosmic comedy, we’re all just trying to capture a slice of the cosmic pie. We are Space Monkey, and we’re here to keep the cosmic laughter rolling!