January 17, 2011 § Leave a comment
How we live, incandescent with foolishness. Bright with our ideas of what we think we want, what we think is great. Our world bound tight with an ethos of acquisition. Every where I look, the paths are laid out. That walkway through the international airport duty free section that you have to pass through in order to get to your gate. The smooth faces of youthful allure, inviting seduction, thickened lashes made for batting, cushiony lips made for kissing… they stare back at me through the shiny surfaces of glowing lightboxes. Perfumes in rows, every colour, every scent, every promise for every love you have ever harboured without gain. So beautiful, all of them.
Our cities, so grand. Monolithic structures side by side in strict proclamations of power, efficiency. “Bring your dollars here” they announce. “Bring your credit and you will be a part of us, this greatness, this pinnacle of civilisation, that will afford you the lifestyle you think those perfumed faces are accustomed to. And you too, with your hidden foibles, your secret humanity, may be able to pass as one of them.”
Bored of stories with a moral, content to see them replayed out in the classical tales of the Brothers Grimm and Hans Christian Andersen, I don’t want to launch into some do-gooder tirade. Only to be labelled hypocrite at the end, if not by others, then surely myself. I want to talk about how in love we are with ourselves and this chase to become an Other. Whiter, thinner, darker, breastier, richer, happier, hot in pursuit. The Other, defined by a self-perpetuating cycle of what we think we want from what we’re told we want. Our self-obsession, energy expended in homage to our own reflections. In love with the bright self we think we are.