Stop Making Sense
Stop making sense (The context for this blog post is a conversation with a dear friend some years back now, but which in light of recent events came back to me and needed some light shining on it). Image: Homeward Bound. Print with silver alloy. From the Hagiography of the Ordinary. 2023. Sometimes we feel alone, and anything is preferable to that emptiness. At other times life's reality storms in like a tsunami. It displaces loneliness with fear of the future. It is early in the morning, and we wake up thinking about all the losses, the ones in the past and the ones just around the corner. We pray for relief from this imminent emotional apocalypse, for a kind hand to hold our shoulder as we hesitate before we enter reality once again. Then, despite our most sincere prayers, he/she, this helping hand, our prospective saviour, inevitably disappoints. They have their own noise/music/drama going on. We pray for it to be ok, we feel for them, we recount our t...