So the answer is yes. The choice to use Phoenix mythology metaphors here is, obviously, deliberate, and with purpose. It isn’t just because I thought it might be “so cool, y’know?”.
It’s a rather fascinating ideology – the conceptualization of birth, death and rebirth, and how that basic cycle of life is encapsulated within the mythological story of a bird. And not just any bird. Or rather, not just a bird confined to a singular mythos, religion, or culture.
In a world where we are constantly divided by difference, there is this common symbol of a bird that weaves a thread through seemingly completely divergent religions, cultures, histories, and mythologies, and represents the one most basic thing we all have in common. Life.
Phoenix imagery generally brings to mind the hopeful ideal of death/rebirth, when so often we are confronted with a reality of birth/death existense. What is always rather amusing in the general clash between differing religious dogma, is most all of them espouse some sort of death/rebirth process, be it resurrection, reincarnation, universal oneness, etc.
What matters isn’t the rhetoric but rather the concept behind it. The idea that once we are born, we are all really going through a constant process of death and rebirth, a constant process of change. At least we should be. Stagnation is an ultimate death, and a person doesn’t have to physically die to experience that.
Blogs have a lifecycle as well. There was another that lived prior to this one that gave itself up to be burned to ashes and so is born this one amidst the embers of the previous. The decision to run two blogs simultaneously was quickly discarded, since a life beyond the computer is always beneficial.
The hope for this blog is that it will become more than just a “day in the life of” journalog. They have their place, but being the child of a writer, there is something wholly unsatisfactory in the whole idea of disgorging the minutiae of daily life (perhaps I’m just dull). However, I have yet to fully decide what this blog shall evolve into, or the direction that it will take.
I can’t promise to always wax eloquent. Everyone has days when they need to have a downright, sardonic rant. Other days, I just like to have a Virginia Woolf, stream of consciousness moment, and divulge internal monologue in as disparate and random a form as it appears in my mind. It has its perks. Perhaps not so much for the reader. But for the writer it can be like a verbal enema, lovely imagery notwithstanding.
Dialectics (aka oral explorations)