3.45PM, Monday, September 2nd
one last plunge into mania
a loud, raucous, rowdy performance of the Dadaist manifesto, the magic of a word
Freedom: Dada Dada Dada, a roaring of tense colors, and interlacing of
opposites and of all contradictions, grotesques, inconsistencies: LIFE
and finally, i read my own manifesto, my own prayer.
i <3 u
All I can say, after 24hours of doing this, is that i don’t really know where any of these ideas are coming from, or on what they are founded. these dialogues, conversations, emotions, sentiments, even a couple of prayers, they are not really founded on anything. they are founded on nothing. And that’s where I begin – from nothingness.
And like any beginning, this nothingness presents itself as a danger and as an excitement.
Because in nothingness, I can be struck down by a hesitation to commit to anything besides indulgent self-improvement. I see in the world that nothingness cultivates the absence of groundings, of communitas, and deepens the void of everyday false experience. I see that communities become placeless places. We drown in a bland, boundless irony that doesn’t really offer any more than digital malaise.
There is critique, but never contribution. And now as a response to the horrors and catastrophes of our world, we seem to only work to destabilize communal points, but we offer little to bring us back together. And I don’t find this all that different from the individualism of neoliberal capitalism.
But through this show, i think I’ve learned the question for me to continue to explore is to open myself to difference, to accept multiple interpretations and appreciate different ways of seeing, while seeking attachment to each other and drifting between the personal truths we’ve shared over the past 24hours.
the political task is creating belonging in a cultural desert. and i think i have begun to do that through taking emotional risks, which allow me to experience the intimacy of collective world-making. because also in nothingness, we find each other and we play. because in nothingness, we realize that this is all we have left.
So for me, I will not escape to, but stay here, and, if I’m lucky, try to recreate this nowness that i’ve experienced with so many different people, so many different voices. a nowness of love and solidarity.
For me, this show was a story of beginnings, a developing hope that was initially cautious, but finally had no constraints.
I think this show was a glimpse of a politics of sincerity. what we have come to call a critical sincerity.
until always, I’ll be here.
and i’ll love you.