Chance Accident

The title may be a tautology, but repetition can be didactic; learning may seep in more than it is plunked down in conscious chunks.
Both these words were uttered in the Tate short film of William Klein: he says that most of his opportunities came to him by chance; one of his techniques came to him by accident.
It is presumed that Pythagoreans tossed non-cubic dice to understand the universe. This is a perfect example of what I would call bringing space to the poetic reach of our comprehension. Chance also betrays our lack of complete knowledge at any given time. The chance sign is the die that is cast - however, just like the bones from which the die emerged, the sign may be less important than what we make of it.
I grew up surrounded by the I Ching. It was noted that not all practitioners were of equal value, but many of the signs that went into the geomancy seemed to me well-contrived. For example, the time that one seeks divination is one of the numbers considered for calculation. Or, the position of one's desk in relation to the boss's office might determine the fate of one's career. These may not be things I am meant to write about on Christmas, but this post seemed to write itself ever since this morning, when a friend began a conversation about how youth today does not know how to read symbols. He spoke of a saint who was considered crazy for seeing a sign from God during WWII when the German planes were coming at them. He commented, to the pure, all things are pure.
Seasoned readers may be comfortable in separating form from essence. But I think that most people retain quite a large measure of bias to their last days - which is why I am personally so keen on brisk self-analysis. It seems to me hard to live up to Epictetus' and Marcus Aurelius' counsel: "It is in our power to have no opinion about a thing, and not to be disturbed in our soul; for things themselves have no natural power to form our judgements."
There is no good reason to become married to form; form is a cage, and we are born for freedom. Which does not mean advocating some kind of chaotic chance (viz. Un Coup de Dés), but rather eyes that see, which paradoxically means "hiding the light of [one's] procedure". Some hiding is necessary to garner a wider audience (larger in terms of breadth, range - not numbers); also, even fact can be disbelieved.
To allow things to fall into place in a way outside of what one has imagined in one's mind (in corrupt belief) can be considered a form of chance. Accidents allow things to break in order to come together in more fruitful ways.
My affinity towards ideas is like an ornithologist creeping up on birds, to find them as they are. This, to me, is awesome. That the birds are not always where one expects to find them is part of the gift of chance.

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