|
Aleister Crowley Diary Entry Sunday, 15 February 1920
Grass
[Hashish]. I observe while playing with modelling wax that
every shape soever taken in the wax looks like something or
other. That is, the human mind seeks to find a resemblance
to some familiar thing, in any given shape. Yet this applies
to only a few things. It is true to some extent of clouds
and rocks. This search for the familiar is Oedipus Complex
but the main point is that since any shape can assume a
meaning the only important thing is beauty of the shape. The
sculpture is merely a pattern. I can understand Mohammedan
art restrictions. The introduction of representations of
material objects merely complicates the problem of beauty.
This all proves that I should seek harmonies and pure
colour. Nothing but meaningless lines. This doctrine is
curiously in accord with my theory about poetry-writing, a
sonnet in S
1—[A sonnett dominated by the sound ess.]
|
