Watch a bicycle moving along the street. Most of us have learned how to ride a bicycle and readily recall the smooth gliding motion, which is the point of view from the bicycle seat.
What happens if we shift perception, move the point of view to another location on the bike? It still is smoothly moving down the street, the same reality. But how does it look and feel from a spoke on the wheel near the rim?
Blue sky, flash of leaves, pavement, car fender, sky and clouds, more leaves, flattened frog on pavement, etc. In short, the perception is of being right side up, whirling upside down, and then back right side up, repeatedly.
It is still the same bicycle moving along the same street, but an altogether different experience. Conversations between the two sets of perception usually go nowhere.
The bicycle seat conversation may discuss a feeling of graceful flow, the enjoyment of the breeze and warmth of sunshine. The bicycle spoke conversation may speak of feeling queasy, overwhelmed, and dismayed over turbulent contradictory experiences.
The bicycle spoke thinks the bicycle seat is a dreamy fool detached from reality. The bicycle seat thinks the bicycle spoke is too absorbed in a drama/trauma game.
The fact of the matter is that each has a perfectly valid and real perception of what is happening. Neither is wrong.
Each point of view gives rise to questions and answers natural to it. The bicycle spoke may ask why it goes upside down every time it gets right side up. Much thought and introspection may go into this painful and pressing question.
The focused mind may analyze observed data and come to all sorts of interesting conclusions about the world, but the experience remains disruptive and disturbing. The bicycle spoke point of view continues to feel queasy, which can become a source of despair.
The spoke’s question is of no concern to the bicycle seat. Instead, this point of view is interested in the myriad small balancing actions required to stay on the seat. Descriptions of these balancing movements sound like complete nonsense to the bicycle spoke.
While the two points of view may not be able to communicate their perceptions understandably to each other, they certainly can get into shrill arguments.
As artists, we see this happening constantly. All those tedious arguments about Art, art with the big capital “A”, start from differing points of view and experience.
But instead of having the grace to say, my experience of art, or my perception of art, many artists make sweeping pronouncements about what Art with the big capital “A” is, as though no other point of view could possibly exist or have any validity.
Somewhere in all this noisy clutter, we might ask what point of view, what sort of perception, would be best to choose? That question only comes once we have finally noticed our bicycle moving down the street carries many other possible points of view.
And that question brings us to the next post in this series, The Bicycle and Perception Part 2.