The rocks have been here for ten thousand years. Never moved away, never came back. Permanently, in the same place. They have witnessed animals long extinct. They have seen our ancestors settle down, wage wars, move away. There is literally nothing more permanent than the rocks. When I think about the rocks, a sudden peace embarks on me. In our world, everything is so very transient. Everything that makes us; our hopes, emotions, memories.
We seem to carry a lot of weight these days. Stress, anxiety, pressure. Both internal and external. All that stuff accumulates. Little by little, piece by piece, fills us up, like a tank. But, at a certain point, we can’t contain it any longer. It boils over. Spills like an overcooked soup. A nasty soup of anger, confusion, and tiredness. It seems being part of civilization, among all of its benefits, also bears a huge burden.
There’s no direct path. Never was, nor will be. It’s always zig-zaggy, meandering, taking turns. Sometimes, it feels like you’re going backwards. All that footwork is progress. Every step moves us forward along the path of life. Even if it’s all unclear and muddy. So the best thing to do is to not get discouraged. To consistently continue pursuing this confused path like a mad man. To live; eventfully, gracefully.
Focus is a skill. A virtue. Something we can learn, but also loose. It’s an elusive feeling. We might feel focused for months, years, but one day – we might realize we’ve been focusing on the wrong thing all that time. No focus – no results. Without any sort of direction, topic, theme, it’s almost impossible to achieve, to create anything. Our mind is wonderfully curious, yet it needs a sort of filter to tame that curiosity.
Originally published as part of my daily writing challenge on March 18, 2021. 669 One of the most dangerous phenomenons of our society, in my opinion, is groupthink. It has been, sadly, part of what it means to be human for ages. Our desire for being in agreement with our peers, to hold opinions shared by those who we care about, often tramples our individual reason, our personal lucidity. What worries me is how our increasing reliance on labels is magnifying the strength and occurrence of groupthink tendencies.
As the new year approaches, I’m excited to present you another photograph from my yearly “Man In the Internet” series, titled “Third Time’s A Charm”. “Man In the Internet” is my longest-running series, starting all the way back in 2017. These photographs served as my public profile photos all over the web. A long time ago I decided to not share my face online, and these artworks served perfectly as a substitute.
Czwartkowy spacer wzdłuż plant nie byłby w żaden sposób wyjątkowy, gdyby nie zdecydowanie częstsze dźwięki syren karetek pogotowia. Rok temu, w październiku, było tak samo. Karetka za karetką. Tutaj S-ka, tutaj P. Dwie przecznice dalej myka T. Zwykły spacer, z niezwykłym akompaniamentem. Znowu - umiera nas więcej niż powinno. Znowu - SORy pękają w szwach. Znowu - wirus sieje spustoszenie. Tym razem jednak na zewnątrz, poza tym dzielnym, aczkolwiek nędznym światem chorowania i umierania, życie toczy się po staremu.
Sometimes, obstacles appear. They’re not necessarily problems - inconveniences, rather. Things we trip up over. The common approach is to cautiously avoid these obstacles. To look for excuses, signposts showing us a possible detour. In the end, obstacles make us. They are the way to go. Through confrontation we become fuller, brighter. Their unpleasantness shall not deter us.
”New Skin” - On My Way To Me, 2021 Even in darkness there is existence. The imperfections, the pain - they make life fuller. To see the beauty, see the ugliness. — Pink Rabbits by The National. Lyrics: Matt Berninger; I couldn’t find quiet I went out in the rain I was just soakin’ my head to unrattle my brain Somebody said you disappeared in a crowd I didn’t understand then I don’t understand now Am I the one you think about when you’re Sitting in your faintin’ chair drinking pink rabbits?
A clear surface, nicely polished. So normal, so perfect. One to adore, one to impress. Till the cracks start showing up. Something creeps up from the surface. A nasty substance, so it seems. Destroying the smoothness, abolishing the perfectness. The truth has come out. It’s easy to hide, just stand where everyone is looking. The cracks are the truth. The cracks are the beauty.