～ Aldous Huxley
i can’t but help but wonder what their heaven would be like…
most salmon flies make me think of drag queens: ghastly, tarty-tasteless gaudy caricature creatures haphazardly put together with ill-died feathers and plastic diamonds.
whether they catch fish or not is irrelevant, it’s the human factor and the horrendous side effects of complacency and a general sense of ineptitude induced to both viewers and creators of such tackiness that’s still wreaking havoc (of sorts) in the fly tying world after hundreds of years.
one could say they are the neon lights used to lure in trucker-cap crowds to the local strip mall. (please use your imagination for that last part and don’t actually go there) anyhow, this is some serious shit and not something to be taken lightly so let’s see what a recognized expert has to say about this phenomenon.
“Hence man’s otherwise inexplicable passion for salmon flies and hence his attribution to precious stones of therapeutic and magical virtue…. In other words, precious stones are precious because they bear a faint resemblance to the glowing marvels seen with the inner eye of the visionary. “
Aldous Huxley’s pretty in-deep quote from his marvelous essay ‘Fly Tying Doors of Perception and Heaven and Hell’ shows a much higher understanding than i ever could as to why these gaudy flies are so popular and get the most ‘likes’ on Facebook.
now, on the other hand and thank goodness !, we have these quasi-mystical shrine-like flies tied by Mike Townend of Aberdeen, Scotland prompting aw-inspiring reflections such as:
“The hook, for example, of that fly–how miraculous it’s tubularity, how supernatural it’s polished smoothness! I spent several minutes–or was it several centuries?–not merely gazing at this salmon fly, but actually being it—or rather being myself in it; or, to be still more accurate (for “I” was not involved in the case, nor in a certain sense were “it”) being my Not-self in the Not-self which was the salmon fly.”
right. rendering the acquisition of illegal lotions and potions pointless, thanks to Monsieur Townend we get to view, absorb and be the sublime and not have to wait eight hours for it all to wear off.
(hmmm, the more i re-read all this the more it all makes sense but in case it don’t, if you ignore the words you’ll at least enjoy these awesomely stunning examples of what can only be considered ‘feather poetry’)