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Description
This is a conceptual peice I've been working on for the last month....the mushroom ate three books and new writing was produced. I'm not going to get to far into it right now becuase I would rather get interpretive feedback..that is if you have the time
Here is the text the mushroom is composed off PLEASE READ!

The stalk is made up of quotes from the three books:
Postmodern thought is no longer binary thought. What we must learn, then, is how to conceive difference without opposition.
Everything that is thought and expressed in words is one-sided, only half the truth; it lacks totality, completeness, unity.
This conflict cannot be solved by an either-or but only by a kind of two-way thinking: doing one thing while not losing sight of the other.

The postmodernist work attempts to upset the reassuring stability of the mastering position.
For the more a theory lays claim to universal validity, the less capable it is of doing justice to the individual facts.

Without consciousness there would, practically speaking, be no world, for the world exists as such only in so far as it is consciously reflected.
To claim this is also to claim that the world exists only in and through a subject who believes that he is producing the world.
And all the voices, all the goals, all the yearnings, all the sorrows, all the pleasures, all the good and evil, all of them together was the world.

The natural state of the psyche consists in a certain jostling together of its components and in the contradictoriness of their behavior.
Multiple meanings engendered by a single sign; rather, two clearly defined but mutually incompatible readings are engaged in blind confrontation in such a way that it is impossible to choose.
When he did not bind his soul to any one particular voice but heard them all, the whole, the unity; then the great song of a thousand voices consisted of one word: OM—perfection.

It is the medium from which the religious experience seems to flow.
Every sign, can be cited, in doing so it can break with every given context, engendering an infinity of new contexts.
And yet it was always there; it was always the same and yet every moment it was new.

Our psyche, remains an insoluble puzzle and incomprehensible wonder.
Signifieds and signifiers are continually breaking apart and reattaching in new combinations.
Nothing is mine, I know nothing, I possess nothing, I have learned nothing. How strange it is.

He had died and a new Siddhartha had awakened from his sleep.
The era of hyperreality now begins.
Do you understand what you are reading?

The cap is made up of individual words from the books:
Regrouping the words of books changes the meaning of all the words, thus revealing the entwined significance of the text produced.
What-one-means exists only within the context of the other words and is dependant on the brain of the receiver.
What I say belongs to other individuals in a thousand ways.

I hope you, in observing my patterns of ideas, find your own meaning.
What happens is that the mind will join together many elements that are meaningful in content, composing a collage of individual experience.
Perhaps we always do this.

When you express thoughts or opinions you must not constrain them.
Allow other people to transform what you say and find in their individual investigations new meaning.
Only then, by being open to difference, can we find peace.

Embrace the changeability of words and seek self-knowledge in anything expressed by others.
Do not force any standpoint on other people.
People interpret and invent but nothing is absolute.

In this way we are like mushrooms breaking down language in order to absorb the nutrients.
We decay and deconstruct to cultivate different perspectives and find new meaning.

This relationship of symbiotic decomposition that takes place between everybody deepens the complexity of every individual experience.

Each mushroom is what it is—its own center.

Thankyou for your mind

Materials: Paper three books
Siddhartha by Hermann Hesse
The Anti-Aesthetic by Hal Foster
The Undiscovered Self by Carl Jung

Description
This is a conceptual peice I've been working on for the last month....the mushroom ate three books and new writing was produced. I'm not going to get to far into it right now becuase I would rather get interpretive feedback..that is if you have the time
Here is the text the mushroom is composed off PLEASE READ!

The stalk is made up of quotes from the three books:
Postmodern thought is no longer binary thought. What we must learn, then, is how to conceive difference without opposition.
Everything that is thought and expressed in words is one-sided, only half the truth; it lacks totality, completeness, unity.
This conflict cannot be solved by an either-or but only by a kind of two-way thinking: doing one thing while not losing sight of the other.

The postmodernist work attempts to upset the reassuring stability of the mastering position.
For the more a theory lays claim to universal validity, the less capable it is of doing justice to the individual facts.

Without consciousness there would, practically speaking, be no world, for the world exists as such only in so far as it is consciously reflected.
To claim this is also to claim that the world exists only in and through a subject who believes that he is producing the world.
And all the voices, all the goals, all the yearnings, all the sorrows, all the pleasures, all the good and evil, all of them together was the world.

The natural state of the psyche consists in a certain jostling together of its components and in the contradictoriness of their behavior.
Multiple meanings engendered by a single sign; rather, two clearly defined but mutually incompatible readings are engaged in blind confrontation in such a way that it is impossible to choose.
When he did not bind his soul to any one particular voice but heard them all, the whole, the unity; then the great song of a thousand voices consisted of one word: OM—perfection.

It is the medium from which the religious experience seems to flow.
Every sign, can be cited, in doing so it can break with every given context, engendering an infinity of new contexts.
And yet it was always there; it was always the same and yet every moment it was new.

Our psyche, remains an insoluble puzzle and incomprehensible wonder.
Signifieds and signifiers are continually breaking apart and reattaching in new combinations.
Nothing is mine, I know nothing, I possess nothing, I have learned nothing. How strange it is.

He had died and a new Siddhartha had awakened from his sleep.
The era of hyperreality now begins.
Do you understand what you are reading?

The cap is made up of individual words from the books:
Regrouping the words of books changes the meaning of all the words, thus revealing the entwined significance of the text produced.
What-one-means exists only within the context of the other words and is dependant on the brain of the receiver.
What I say belongs to other individuals in a thousand ways.

I hope you, in observing my patterns of ideas, find your own meaning.
What happens is that the mind will join together many elements that are meaningful in content, composing a collage of individual experience.
Perhaps we always do this.

When you express thoughts or opinions you must not constrain them.
Allow other people to transform what you say and find in their individual investigations new meaning.
Only then, by being open to difference, can we find peace.

Embrace the changeability of words and seek self-knowledge in anything expressed by others.
Do not force any standpoint on other people.
People interpret and invent but nothing is absolute.

In this way we are like mushrooms breaking down language in order to absorb the nutrients.
We decay and deconstruct to cultivate different perspectives and find new meaning.

This relationship of symbiotic decomposition that takes place between everybody deepens the complexity of every individual experience.

Each mushroom is what it is—its own center.

Thankyou for your mind

Materials: Paper three books
Siddhartha by Hermann Hesse
The Anti-Aesthetic by Hal Foster
The Undiscovered Self by Carl Jung