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20-10-24 : Hope
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20-10-24 : Hope |
01-04-25 : Romance Saves
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01-04-25 : Romance Saves |
This or that, the story always starts where it ends: Oneself.
That was the journey of a rolling stone, getting polished, earning unique scars.
This is the eye examining where it meets itself, falling in loops infinite.
That was a tale of belonging and self-exploring, through others, finding meaning in diversity.
This is a moment of existence shattering into fragments, re-emerging, every time we're aware of it.
That was about grinding off the sharp edges, the squareness of a younger reason, and finding the perfect, infinite circle.
Nothing is deeper, calmer, more constant than a circle yet, in a fascinating contrast, the moment when it's full is the very moment it shatters.
Fragments are what's left, dispersed, suspended, like a universe looking for more, branching out to chase completeness, the perfection that would make all cease.
Fragments is this. A crack forever making new fragments to fill the cracks.
It’s the frustration with either or
It’s the unity of opposite fragments of Greek Philosopher Heraclites
It’s the harmony coming out of deafening tension
It’s the fragment of yin and yang
It’s the fragment of continuous flow, of a Phoenix reborn every time it’s aware of itself.
It’s the fragment of the paradox born out of a loop.
It’s about an instant of length zero or infinity, until it’s lived.
(And speaking of infinity, it's about time we stop adding digits to PI)
“Time is what keeps everything from happening at once.” - John Wheeler
It’s the fragment of memory.
"The dream of having computers behave like humans is coming true, with the transformation, in a single generation, of humans into computers." - Nassim Taleb
Project all onto the world, so we can become its gear, nothing more
toothed wheels crunching to rotate, rotating to crunch.
We’ve built the zoo in which we live long
We strive to put intelligence in all
Maybe consciousness next
Artificial Consciousness would maintain,
And arrange visits to the zoo.
It’s the fragment of progress.
The world is ruled by the ones who replaced the God that Nietzsche rightly saw dying, with a golden crown. Perhaps there's a clue to why he called his short story the Parable Of The Madman.
It’s the missing fragment.
In the beginning was the word
Foraging sight to find itself
Masking all in order to see
It’s the fragment of existence.
Our traces are the mask through which we see
Our face is drawn by the obsessions and aspirations
of the hands we left in Lascaux cave
and the imprint of a man on a sidewalk
in Hiroshima.
It’s my fragment.
I am a 5-year-old Lebanese Belgian artist hauling the heavy beard of Heraclitus. The flow of existence that made it curly has not tired yet of blowing in circles.
I’m 5 because the first 40 years I roamed as an engineer, all the way to a cliff, then instead of falling I started walking upside down, and all the way back to my cradle. The journey back is my art and who I am.
More than anything, I'd like for the statues of rock and steel to say "it's funny, isn't it?
My wish is that everybody sees humor in the absurd, and conclude that the Human condition is totally overrated.