3.57
When a tree explodes for us (§3.12)—when its particularity, its intensity, crosses-over the divide—its prismatic god calls to ours, and each shows openings in the other’s world. To some degree and for a flash, we become the tree and it becomes us — it becomes me. Intensities are contagious.
Of course, differences aren’t overcome, yet we share in being.
Such an encounter, in its transience, reminds us of mortality and finitude. This is how the call of a raven can make you feel full and empty, for you turn into its resonance chamber, for its beauty limns and plumbs its shape that vanishes — and your shape, too.