Fields of Poetry

I don't know how to love him
What to do, how to move him
I've been changed. Yes, really changed
In these past few days when I've seen myself
I seem like someone else . . .

Monday, November 14, 2011

Stagnant Cognition

A humdrum existence have taken a grip of my lengthy neck, ready to slam my face into a cold bucket of rain water, draining the remaining bubble of air which symbolizes the hope I have stored in the alveoli, located at the very end of my lung. Left lung or right lung? It doesn't really matter the way it didn't matter if you're a right or left hand user.

After watching that RSAnimate - The Divided Brain, I am torn between the satisfaction that the right brain-left brain theory initiated by Roger W. Sperry in the 1970's is flawed; I am torn between that satisfaction and the loss of identity.

As a child I've been taught that my dependence on my left hand determines my future; that I am meant to become an artist since birth so I should give up Math and other Academic Studies! So I pursued an Artist's Career, majoring in Art and Design despite the nagging conscientious that the said theory is sketchy. It took 20 years to learn that it is indeed impervious to reason. According to Iaian McGilchrist, it's not true that one brain does reason while the other does emotion in fact, both brain are able to process reason and emotion on a par. Even if you remove one part of your brain you can still function albeit less productively.

Now I can more or less accept that I haven't succeeded as an artist. Perhaps I was misguided to believe that it's my destiny due to that popular theory that had stuck with us for a long time. Thank you science for clearing that up. I've completely lost my tracks. Now I gotta look up at the stars, get back on track; get that monotony's murderous hands off of me so I can breath in more hope and gather courage.

Still, I will not give up my artist's career or the probability that I will succeed in that field. Time is an enemy one needs to befriend.