Homecoming

Each moment is a leap forward from the brink of an invisible cliff, where times keen edges are constantly renewed . We lift our foot from the solid ground of all our life lived thus far and take that perilous step out into empty air

Han Kang

A journey

This moment. This precipice.

Isn’t it wonderful how someone’s creations can move you deeply. How their work, a piece of their soul made real as a product of their unique environment, can take on a universality and allow you to understand your own. Maybe it is some form of indoctrination, but in a world littered with existential quagmires I prefer to see them as guiding signs. Markers for your own homecoming.

One day I will give birth to myself, lonely but possessed.

Patricia Williams

Personal Mythologies. I came across this phrase in a podcast and it has stuck with me since. We all have them. Our own mental ‘portfolios’ of art, lectures, books ect that form us. They provide a level of definition when meaning becomes hazy. Art is also important. So so so, important.

Quarantine has been a moment of self reflection for me, like many people- a gap year of sorts. Who am I? What is my backstory? What am I living for? Questions our subconscious, almost as a reflex, lets us think we know the answer to…yet we don’t. I don’t think I can answer these conclusively at the moment, perhaps I never will. But being critical is important to me, I don’t want to drift through existence. I want to feel everything fully, the good and bad. I know now that, I am me. Take it or leave it as you please.

The quiet lust belongs to all of us

And drives us closer into the madness

Of the world, of a girl

AURORA

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