"Maris Bustamante makes an impassioned case for the power of new, transdiciplinary, and visual ways of knowing the world. In general, she argues, "we do not see what we see," but rather "what we have been made to see," as a result of the compartmentalized, "rationalized" structures of Western European thought… She ends with a call for "accomplices" to use "demystifying humor" to carry out "the most eccentric actions" that will help to prepare us to confront "other truths" long hidden by the dominant modes of thought that serve to reproduce inequality and injustice."
Editors’ Introduction: Art, Power, and Social Change; Emmanuel A. David and Edward J. McCaughan
Peeled an egg this morning and my eyes glazed over. Entered that fugue state that often comes to me when I’m engaged in a domestic chore that is less action and more automated response. Was thinking about love. It occurred to me that the familiar is not something that I want anymore. I don’t want the kind of love that I can recognize. I want a new kind of love. Something that rings no bells.
I also realized that in all my running through life and the hellbent efforts to escape all the things that I felt trapped by, I had inadvertently created a life for myself where the opposite of those hurts couldn’t find me either. I had effectively woven a net that protected me from predator and also prey. I am a toothless shark, a grey shadow slipping across the bleached ocean floor, starved and unmarked.
Reminded me of a quote by C.S. Lewis…
“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully around with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness.
But in that casket – safe, dark, motionless, airless – it will not change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.”