Directed Ratio, Compressed Heavens
|Dec 13, 2020|
Our gaze and attention, is our worship and understanding.
I’ve been obsessed with this statue at The Met, of a woman fixated on her crucifix. What she was trying to reach. What do we all strive to reach daily. From her heart, she directs her gaze. The promise of the cross is not silent, but a directed force that pulls her body towards it. Slouching towards Bethlehem, and ascendent. Everlasting life. Reconnected to the initial act of creation. Reunited with followers before and after us.
In meditating on this pose, I think of our daily orientation. We’ve replaced the crucifix, with a much louder constant and profane response. Profane not in its objective morality, but in its attention to succumb to our first touch and direction. This too links us with the others. From within, I direct a cool interface. Promises of interaction with others of this faith. Sending my prayers in new forms, but still to the cloud. It all cycles back, and my body vibrates. A shake from above. Telling me it is time to reassume my pose. New reverence.
Every product, advertisement, writing… is essentially a promise. Between the creator and consumer. There’s the default state of living, and then the augmented state of use. The promises we reach for, represent the futures we would like to find ourselves in. The “I do” is also the promise that we’ll watch our grandchildren run around in the yard sooner than we think.
This image from Humane (my not secret, stealth obsession) has me thinking about what happens when we compress the heavens? When our orientation is not of an eternal ratio, but beaming forth from our gaze and returning the same way. Is this not the promise of Heaven… from our limited human-ness, “the best human experience ever”.
I don’t do edits really, so excuse typos and things that don’t make sense.
Thanks so much for giving me your attention. I hope it was worth it, if not… unsubscribing will not hurt my feelings, and will give you back time you literally cannot have back.