In a Sci fi movie, a man and a woman walk into a garden at night. They are struck by a powerful feeling of nausea, as if their density weren’t amenable to the frequency of that particular garden, of that particular night; as if they had to get rid of their opinions, their prescience, their science, their memories, their biographies, and their names… in order to enter the night… and its hidden garden. They vomit violently in what seems like a swift exorcism. They throw-up their entrails, and more, at the foot of a tobacco plant. Then they walk on a circular path around the infinite garden, which they come to call with delight “the planet”. They meander; they meet in different points of that tiny and endless plot of land.

At some point the man is alone, there are some plants growing wildly, like disheveled black hair flowing from, or towards a wall. He stands there, rocking gently… and then his eyes open. But it is hard to know how they open, what lids were shed in that moment; for what he sees floating above those plants is like nothing he has seen before. There are vortexes in certain specific places; they are made of some kind of hyper dimensional cobweb-like filaments that draw their invisible shape against the backdrop of the night, like the holographic render of algorithms. There are more layers, infinite layers of information, some of which he can only perceive in split seconds before he looses his grip on the visions. Driven by pure intuition he gently scoops one of those vortexes with his cupped hand. He can still see it floating over his right hand palm, as he notices her approaching. He shows her the tiny vortex… she sees it too…

Days later - in conversations with friends - they can barely find the right words, still they try… the only term that pins the event is the word “digital”: what they saw was digital information. They try further, they think of an information field: “The human as the sentient entity that walks in the garden of consciousness.” Again the digital metaphors are their only tool: the human as an operating system that has been upgraded through millennia, one step at a time… now ready to perceive the morphogenetic fields, poetry written as code in resonance with the 3D world... Now ready…? Of course not… none of this could be the product of linear evolution. It would be more correct to say that after perceiving code - a fall always follows; and the winding labyrinth has to be walked again. Code cannot be transmitted, it always lands: it is imprinted, so that perceiving code is, at the same time imprinting it somewhere, and that which seems to be opening up is also shutting itself off, simultaneously. The apostle Paul for example is far, far away from the vision that blinds him, as he falls from his horse, right after receiving the vision that founds Christianity.

Their garden is the ever-present Genesis archetype, Bergson’s idea of creative evolution.

A thought comes up; they review their digital metaphors and they reach a conclusion: these metaphors are at hand because humanity - in this Age - spontaneously concocted a machine – that we came to call artificial intelligence - that mimics the invisible working of a multi-dimensional natural world; this absent minded mimesis, or co-expression has taken place, over and over, in the 1001 proto histories of a recurrently amnesic humanity. The point is that there is an immaterial code, and then there is a rendering of that code into a physical reality. The play of shadows is of, course infinite. Plato’s cavern is the vision of a mystic, a seer, or a quantum physicist, nothing less, and it is infinite: every cavern leads to another cavern and the dweller of the cavern is not a creator of symbols, they are the symbolic being, naturally playing in their environment, expanding a pattern that is at play before the game starts; a language that begets language, infinitely.

They go back to what they saw, to the literal vision, after all their elaborations; and they remember something much simpler: the stories of shamans who go out in the night into the Amazon jungle and are able to find medicinal plants. These people know each plant and its curative properties, in pitch darkness… a story that is no longer a fable to them.