Perhaps there is one thing people can agree on today, anyone with a sane mind that is: destroying creates anguish. Finding acceptance of unacceptable behavior has been one of the tumultuous mental strains the notion of freedom has made my mind wrestle with. What would humanity be if they were allowed to do absolutely anything they want? Tribalistic? Canabalistic? Are they not doing these things, in tacit ways already? The pursuit of winning has seemed to be in vein…and I mean vein not vain.
A life loving and loving life seems to be the best win I could ever imagine…though it has remained a dream by ideal but a reality by the fact we exist. This view is based on the hands as extensions of the heart: a philosophy of mind and body people seem to love to argue about. However the freedom to do what one sets out to do came right to the forefront this last year. There are a millions little things people do not like to do that must be done: someone, or now some-thing has to do them by design of the human idealistic realm. Open the blinds, wash dishes, and the thing I wonder about a lot is why everyone seems to want to be an artist. Making art was something a bit of a taboo- I wanted very much to do it because it seemed difficult, if not impossible. Looking at the stunning history of human creations, I really coudln’t imagine I could have anything to add to that…but that if I tried hard enough I might.
Art seems to have become the trophy for the treasure cabinet of life, for some. For others, art conveys a deeper understanding of the current social conditions today. One need not argue for or against art, I don’t think anyway…but in the way words get used, I do wonder if we can apply a bit more care and precision?
Seeing and understanding reality clearly often seems lost from the excitement of new technology…and few seem willing to publicly speak up, for the memories of beheadings, the echos of biblical stories of those who spoke truth getting hung or crucified remain. The capacity for humans to behave barbarically has not diminished over time. Instead, the old saying, nothing new under the sun…comes to mind. It seems as if certain patterns are damned to repeat.
I am interested in new patterns, and I do believe in the power of thought and even more so in the courage of agency. I believe in heart as much as caring stings the backside of my nose.
You know that sting right before you’re about to cry is a way of knowing whether or not your heart is connected to your head. Are you embodied or disconnected?
I write because I am tired of having to think these thoughts alone. I write because these things are hard to say. I write because I no longer know exactly what to do but keep recovering the things that matter in the hopes more people do.
Today I got news the library in Oslo will have a new key solution that lets you use the library during more hours. Great (I mean that). The flip side is this signal indicates another point in which people will be tracked and traced.
In the absence of real truth and trust, people are outsourcing proof through systems of technological records. In this sense, the body’s record was not enough proof. Perhaps people did not understand yet: creating and life are willful pursuits.
The very people shouting about systemic oppression are creating systems that eventuate into new forces of imaginary freedom and plausible oppression.
There seems to be nothing more I can do but report things as I see them. And this I add an anecdote from Cletus Dalglish-Schommer who said I made a lot of “trust me” art. He is correct. I balked at being called an artist because I did not want the cliche mythology that went along with it…so I replied, “just because someone has a thought does not make it true either.” As for how I make things or what doors open when the one’s I want to have opened won’t budge…it’s all true. Much of it I wish wasn’t, but a great deal more of it is. You don’t have to trust me though. I lived through it. Perhaps the physical proof is the closest we can get to truth still. Truth doesn’t mean we don’t make mistakes. I have made plenty, but I face those head on now because that’s where the music is…..while everything else seems like a fuzzy drone stuck on repeat.
I don’t want a revolution, mind you, as those are often bloody, painful and never change what they set out to. Real change takes time. When people say be careful what you wish for, I think they really mean it. I wanted to know the truth, wanted to experience the real (thing), worked day and night mostly unpaid for it. I think a lot of art can be judged as pure vanity in some ways or propaganda in others: such as in giving permission for humans to behave in certain ways. I still think art is to activate the ability to make sense and gain some understanding. Perhaps this is the only way to make sense of loss.
Please let me know if you have any knowledge about this pattern:
A few poetic metaphors:
Agreement