gravity’. A dodecahedral geometry that’s a prime candidate for achieving physics long sought ‘Theory of Everything,’ its five-fold rotation permits the unification of relativity and quantum physics and of collective unconscious desire with material reality in its fractally cohering flow – all mediated by the iconic pentagram, the ‘divine proportion’ by which it unfolds.
My meeting-mating with the torus coincided with a breakdown in ‘objective’ reality when the underground artist’s culture I was part of (the old Goodman Building (in San Francisco) cohered and shifted to a quantum state in the seventies when our deeply integral and economical live/work habitat was threatened with demolition by Redevelopment Agency bulldozers and we took over its management ourselves; a decision that released a stream of meaning that came to encompass all we did. Despite overwhelming odds we managed to sustain its flow for a decade, identifying and evolving shared goals and strategies for action at often miraculous weekly meetings where we’d opt out of what didn’t feel right and affirm what did. In Science, Order, and Creativity, physicist David Bohm described such a flow between an underlying ‘implicate’ order of dark matter and the ‘explicate’ order we ordinarily perceive. A subquantum ‘holomovement,’ Bohm describes it as “a dense gas of electrons that exhibits radically different behavior from other, normal states of matter, a highly organized system which behaves as a whole…almost like a living being.” He added, “I was fascinated with the question of how such organized collective behavior could go along with the almost complete freedom of movement of the individual electrons. I saw in this an analogy to what society could be, and perhaps as to how living beings are organized.”
Fascinating to me as an artist was my growing awareness that our collective praxis, like Bohm’s holomovement, had a vortex form. That is, the escalating feedback loop between our growing coherence of vision and the agency’s one-dimensional response which we’d always de- and re-construct began taking shape in my imagination as a double spiral, a vortex sphere. Unfolding our ideas of wholeness and beauty through this vortex (which turns out to be fractal) we’d ‘dissipate’ the entropic slack of their inert and costly proposals. Thus in our praxis of aesthetic reduction – its alchemy – we’d released the flow of the holomovement. In the language of chaos math, we’d fallen into synch with a ‘strange’ or fractal attractor – a self-similar mode of thinking and being that’s not linear or determinate but open to the hidden order artists know that mathematicians and complexity theorists now call chaos. No longer constrained by Cartesian dualism, the systemic double bind that’s leading humanity into what Gregory Bateson called ‘an evolutionary cul-de-sac,’ self-similar, analogue cognition turns in and out on itself,