I came out of the fog. I see more sharply and more clearly. In fact, I see the end. This trip is strange. I have material—a path I cannot deviate from, not for a moment, not even a centimeter. It would seem that I have nothing to do here. And yet I am doing something, and it is tiring. And something arises from it. It resembles Podhale music, sometimes uncannily so, but still sounds a little different.

I’ve come across an interesting concept—Aesthetic Realism. Its central assumption: the overriding need of a person is to have a positive attitude toward the world. Simply to like it, in all its manifestations. Unfortunately however, the structure of the world is based on opposites and to find one’s way in this world and act within it, a person operates through recognizing them, naming them, and treating them as signposts. One relates to them in various ways, which makes it possible to know which direction to take. Whether, for example, toward light or toward darkness. The mechanism of this discrimination is that something either pleases us or does not. Thus all of our problems, all inner and outer conflicts, from feeling unwell to war, are aesthetic in nature. And art exists so that a person may see and reconcile opposites in their pure form, detached from their utilitarian functions. To step beyond one’s own nature and be wiser. To see opposites, but avoid destructive conflict.

From Podhale music radiates a positive attitude toward the world in all its manifestations. One may get the impression that it ideally reconciles opposites. Nevertheless, I got punched in the face by a highlander. Perhaps he wasn’t musical.