Some of you are mutual friends. I would like to introduce my friend Robyn to others.
I'm a fan of consciousness in human beings. By that, I mean a particular manifestation: those with a large and resilient field of vision. So many operate on direct-current. I prefer alternating-current. I like Nikola Tesla. I like minds that loop and curve. That are like magic mirrors not merely reflecting but somehow also absorbing. Minds that are like Krishna's – knowing, smiling, slippery. Minds one can rely on to always be unexpected.
Every morning and every night, Robyn shines through with good spirits. A cycle of salutation and closing that is warm, genuine, and exuding an atmosphere of hope. She's one of those people who make you think: “Yep, were all headed for pitch-black doom or at least a highly murky unknown, but it's reassuring to know we're not isolated in our peculiar abysses. As weak as we all are against the enormity of being, how pleasant to be in the winking company of this elliptical woman who keeps filling my glass with red wine!”
And serving dreamy dishes the mere cyber descriptions of which are mouth-watering. A way of being in the world at once elegant and down-home. Cosmopolitan and provincial.
Robyn likes art. Weird freaking art. Surrealism (and other stuff, too). She also likes Camus. And Dada.
I mentioned that magic-mirror-absorbing thing. Her consciousness also has something of the fun-house mirror to it. Like how her mind bends and warps and quivers, depending on what enters it from outside and what is projected from strange realms within. She is even – can you believe it? – able to track my own consciousness to a high degree. That pleases me.
Oh...she also knows languages that haven't been invented yet.
Robyn is mutable, flexible. If you say something stupid, she is gracious toward you. Patient, forbearing. If you say something mean or way-stupid...well...be prepared for a subtle, sardonic riposte. The change can occur quickly, throwing you off-balance. You thought you were dealing with a soft-shaded daffodil, but suddenly the petals might turn into honed blades of human truth.
Robyn is genuinely far-out. Like those pioneers of hyper-consciousness back in the sixties. But she's not strictly mental, abstract, and psychedelic. She's also warm and charming. Unique.
Here's a song for you, Robyn: