talking about universals gives certain people the chills – and reassures some – but the mere acceptance of the existence of universal laws explains very little of the world. the thing is, once we start making sense of what happens around us, we start putting facts together and the glue we choose has an immense effect of what kinds of conundrums come about.
to put it simply, our explanatory stories – or narratives as the good old hermeneutic inquirer would say – are construed by us with whatever material we have at our disposal and the results are selective and biased in every beautiful sense of the words.
i have a paradoxical but loving relationship to moments when little details force me to reassess the storyline i put together. a challenge to my factoids which are built for self-defence or out of pure fatigue can illuminate where i picked the wrong jar of adhesive and give me a reason to reconstruct what i consider real.
lately i have found myself pondering the nature of being busy. my most common greetings start with oughts and shoulds, and i find myself explaining my absence from everywhere including the present moment.
or, to be honest, i feel like the artist faye mullen's model who chose bricks as her point of reference:
|photo from series i am an artist and i weigh by faye mullen 2010.|
whatever i give feels like a brick is lifted off my shoulders but provides the exact pleasure to the recipient that can be expected after being a given a solid block of clay.
to be honest, it ain't a great feeling.
thus, i have concentrated on doing things that give me pleasure. slowly finding time to browse the tubes of glue at my disposal and rearranging the bricks and bringing forward other elements that build up who i am and what my reality consist in.
i started with my nearest and dearest and am slowly moving towards friends and this blog. i refuse to let my narrative get stuck with beginnings like should've and ought, and will soon be distributing marshmallows and fountains of down.
the ultimate goal? i checked out that my weight equals about 9 spider monkeys and i think transforming my busyness from laying bricks into little monkey-gone-crazy is more like the narrative i want to believe in. i'm still not quite at handing out bananas, but trust me, i'll get there. i will still be more busy than i have ever been in my entire life, but it's all about finding the right relativity, right?