Sleep Less. Think More.

21.9.10

Texture And The Sphere Of Possibility

Each person has what shall be deemed a sphere of possibility. Centred in the sphere of possibility, for many people, are habitual experiences like waking up, flossing, or reading the newspaper. At the fringes of the sphere of possibility, for many people, are experiences like dogsled racing in Antarctica, submarine mutiny, or space exploration. These fringe experiences are understood to be possible in a very real sense; but for a person fastened by routine, the possibility becomes vague; perhaps almost fictional. The degree to which an experience or activity is infrequent and distant determines its position in the sphere of possibility; the rarer it is, the closer it is to the edge. Experiences deeply centred within the sphere can develop a commonly flat texture. The further an experience is from the center of the sphere of possibility, the richer the texture.

Let it be said that texture should be defined as the way an experience feels to a person. Fringe experiences are colourful and distinct, eliciting intense physical, emotional, and intellectual responses in varying combinations. These activities carry a charge that amplifies the life force within the agent; the texture is powerful, rich and detailed. These experiences make the agent feel alive. It is not apparent what ‘feeling alive’ entails for each subject. It may be exhilaration, inspiration, pride, animated awareness, a sense of joy with respect to one’s self and one’s relation with the world. The intricacies will vary from person to person but will always remain visceral on some level. On the other end of the spectrum are flat texture experiences. Flat texture experiences are initially dull and elicit little to no emotional, physical, or intellectual stimulation; and even less of a response as the agent repeatedly performs the action that forms the experience. If these experiences are routinely received, they can blend and unify as a kind of grey mass of action that can actually serve to numb the agent or make them feel ‘less alive’. Experiences that are felt over and over again become flat because they shed originality.

Take the example of locking one’s door; for most people the act of locking one’s door before leaving their residence is so habitual and deeply ingrained in the fabric of their lives that it becomes difficult to see the action as freely chosen. Imagine that the act of locking one’s door is a very small section of a painting. The painting represents the life of an individual, reflecting all the choices and experiences that make up their existence, and every single day is displayed. As a result of locking their door every day, the tiny section of the painting that reflects this experience never changes. It is painted over the previous day in precisely the same fashion on an endless repeat. If there are many sections of the painting that are constant like this after a while it actually feels as though all the agent is really doing is replicating someone else’s work. They forget that an action like locking their door is actually a mark of independence. It is true that it is something they have independently done, but it ceases to feel independent in any sort of meaningful way. Their routine has been drawn so many times that they feel as though they are no longer creating something original but merely tracing an image already laid out for them. This renders them numb to the fact that they are alive and free and creating their own existence; a realization that fosters incredible animation. An experience like hang-gliding over mountain tops would form a new element of the agent’s painting, perhaps with a unique blend of colour. This new section of the painting reminds the agent that they are creating the work because it is fresh, original, and not a copy, which means that it came from someone that is alive, thinking, and free; namely themselves. The texture itself of a fringe experience is wondrous, but it is also the affirmation that the agent is alive that establishes their feeling of intense stimulation. The difference between rich and flat texture experiences is comparable to the difference between further muddling walked-on snow and creating crisp footprints on fresh snow. The former offers the agent nothing but the latter gloriously affirms their presence in the world. This is why creative work is so invigorating; it prompts the agent to recall that they are alive and making their own unique imprint as opposed to merely tracing the lives of others. 

It should be noted that experiences which seem to be flat textured are not, in every case, dull and inhibiting or characteristically flat. Some experiences that may elicit very little response for some, carrying an ostensibly weak charge, also may be a source of relaxation or solace for others. Turning one’s bedside lamp off before bed for instance may seem like a bland action to some, but it also may not seem this way at all to others. The experience could conceivably provide certain people with a consistent sense of calm before drifting off to sleep, forming a sense of balance and physical flourishing. The texture and the position inside the sphere of possibility will always depend, to some extent, upon the particular habits and psychological dispositions of the individual. That is to say that there are very few, if any, universally textured or non-textured experiences.

The novelty of an experience does not categorically ensure rich texture. Its novelty can certainly contribute to its charge capacity, but it does not necessitate texture. Some new experiences will have rich textures while others will simply not. This is partially a result of a new experience’s referential points. There may be certain things that an agent has never experienced but for which they already have many points of reference, which all indicate a probable lack of texture. Someone who has never done taxes can infer that the experience will likely not have a powerful charge or particularly rich texture; they possess referential markers to infer the blandness of doing taxes; such as other government paperwork or high school accounting classes. Again, this will not be the same for everyone. It would be remiss to say that it is impossible for a person to gain immense pleasure from doing taxes. Perhaps it could foster a sense of personal pride in one’s mathematical skill or social responsibility, for example.

The established sphere of possibility is subjective but also shared in some respects. Cultural norms, among other things, determine a general outline for the sphere of possibility of the majority of individuals within that culture. For example, in culture x doing y is extremely rare for most people and thus typically lands on the fringes of people’s sphere of possibility. For instance, very few (if any) citizens of Uganda have traveled beyond planet Earth. It is not truly relevant if any have, the point is that the country is not known for space exploration. Therefore, the collection of citizens in Uganda would almost certainly all experience an extremely high degree of texture if they were to be taken under the wing of NASA toward the moon. The texture of experiences are to a degree based on subjective factors but they also generally fall under the scheme of the collective sphere of possibility.

One could conceive of certain experiences which are actually beyond the sphere of possibility, that is entirely outside of the sphere; like alien abduction or time travel. These experiences would no doubt carry immense charges and sublimely rich textures. However, one would imagine the agent to be extremely overwhelmed in a situation like this. The question arises as to whether or not the agent could ever be involved in an experience utterly external to their sphere of possibility. Even if the experience were physically possible the texture might simply be out of reach; the complexity and richness may  somehow not translate for the agent. So these experiences beyond the sphere of possibility, like time travel or alien abduction, are not only practically unlikely, or even scientifically impossible, but also not possible in the sense of an agent actually registering the texture and scope of the experience. The established sphere of possibility seems to determine certain limits. If individuals truly do have an established sphere of possibility, whatever lies beyond the sphere is quite literally out of reach.

Texture is everywhere, in any place, at any moment in time, rising and falling in gradations of colour and detail. The agent lives in a sphere of possibility, which governs not only his actions, but also his hopes, expectations, and responses to future experiences. Some may strive for texture in their lives by seeking out fringe experiences while others may be content to lead their lives in a torpid, flat-textured box. Texture in an experience is determined by the shape of an agent’s life. It is also determined by inherent biological predilections. Humans are intrinsically drawn to certain activities and experiences. Richly textured  experiences make people feel alive because they are stimulating. This stimulation is created out of a charge capacity that arises based on the individuals relation to the experience. It is also created by a latent affirmation that the agent is truly, and tremendously, alive.


written by Elias Campbell

3 comments:

  1. new footprints in snow!
    this made me imagine all of the fringe experiences that I should pursue - inspiring! and your ideas were explained clearly ... very creative

    ReplyDelete
  2. I love this - it makes me seriously consider buying a giant canvas and painting my life.

    "So these experiences beyond the sphere of possibility, like time travel or alien abduction, are not only practically unlikely, or even scientifically impossible, but also not possible in the sense of an agent actually registering the texture and scope of the experience." <-- This makes me think of the Wright Brothers & Edison & Franklin, etc etc. Did their inventions - their dipping into the "quite literally out of reach" (what was at the time thought to be scientifically impossible) to create things that are now considered flat/gray (i.e using electricity) - leave them with no texture of it at all? Am I totally missing your point? Is it 2am? (yes!)

    ReplyDelete
  3. I would say that figures like the Wright brothers and Edison were so imaginative and forward thinking that their spheres of possibility were probably considerably greater than the "average person" in their era/milieu. So I suspect that the experience of creating the first functional airplane was, for the wright brothers, more like a fringe experience than one beyond the sphere of possibility.

    One might locate all experiences of pure invention on a certain point of the fringe in the sphere of possibility (perhaps quite close to the edge). Obviously inventions occur every now and then. For a quite a while it has been more in the area of improving upon previous inventions, but I imagine that the pure, absolute discovery you're referring to is something unique and exceptional.

    This idea of experiences that are beyond the sphere of possibility is a bit of a grey area in the brief meditation I offer. It seems that if we can conceive of an experience that seems practically impossible, we might actually have the capacity, somewhere inside of us, to register what's transpiring. Perhaps, the process is just one of greater depth and length, requiring a perceptive and imaginative agent.

    Great question. Hope that helps.

    ReplyDelete