When the sea rises and carries us away: a blog series in response to (re)Collection by Larisa Minerva
I imagine myself as just another swimmer lost in the waves of plastic containers and electronic communication, balancing a frustrating mix of sentiment and guilt. I look at all the other swimmers content in their meandering; they look small, ant-like in the currents. I want to stop their nauseating motion and try to explain to them about rip tides, but they already know. They’’ve heard it before, and yet the swimmers carry on this way. The ocean of objects is so dense and powerful; its systems meticulously planned and ingeniously integrated—we have no choice.
Just as the ocean frames the frailty of our bodies, the complexity of human accumulation gathers beyond comprehension. There is no way to know it all, but we’ll try. We’ll start by cataloguing everything we ever made and everything we ever felt, so we will never forget, so no one will ever die. But is no use, now all we have is mere copies, markers of their deaths, so many memories lost, dissolving into innumerable opaque layers as we float on the surface. I am sad for them, I know what its like to be lost, this is all I can do to save them. This is my impossible attempt to understand.
Posted on September 19, 2012