Never Know

I have realized that it is impossible to think about anything but one's self, one's immediate surroundings, those one cares about, and one's current concerns. I'm not trying to say that every person, everywhere, is selfish or self-obsessed. I simply mean that no matter how hard anyone tries, there are some things that one cannot fathom unless it is experienced firsthand.

I think this condition can be summarized in the phrase "out of sight, out of mind." It is very, very easy to forget or ignore those things which are not directly in front of you or directly relating to your own life's course. A general example of this is war. I have never been in a war. There has never been a war that threatened my own life and my own country in my lifetime. No one I have personally known has ever died in a war. Both my grandfathers were in wars, as well as my grandfather-in-law, but I can't possibly know what war was like from hearing their stories. It is impossible.

I felt, when I was younger, that when I learned about the Holocaust that I had wrapped my mind around it fully. I understood the suffering and the persecution and the evil. It wasn't until I was reading Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close that I realized I have no clue whatsoever. Foer writes about a character that lives through the Dresden bombings. His description of that event, actually living in it, gave me a whole new perspective. Also, Foer's writing about the effect of 9/11 on a little boy was equally as devastating--not only because of how terribly sad it was, but because of how incredibly eye-opening it was. I knew nothing. I could never know anything unless I lived it.

The recent events in Japan have only reaffirmed my belief that unless you're there, you can never know what it was like, how horrible it was to live through, and how sad it is to be a part of. I have read the news, I have watched video footage, looked at pictures and tried to empathize..tried to understand what all of it must be like and I just can't. Nothing I imagine will ever come close because I have been lucky enough to not be involved in such an event.

What's even more depressing is that while all of this is happening in Japan, I can't help but still be concerned with my own life, its own mini-dramas and its own shortcomings. How can I be so upset about being defriended on Facebook or whine about missing my favorite foods from the States when there are people dying and suffering? How can I just not take that into account and get over my life's small inconveniences?

The only answer I can come up with is that it's just not possible. We are shackled to our subjectivity. We are limited by our own perceptions and happenings and nothing except firsthand experience with tragedy can change that. While I wish that I could understand more greatly the suffering of others, and feel a little more aware about what they are going through, I still hope that I never have to face anything like it. And perhaps the knowledge that what they are going through is so unbelievably tragic and heartbreaking that I would never want to live through it is the only true amount of understanding and compassion I can offer.

Some New Stuff

Does anybody else ever need to revamp the look of their blog simply so they can write a post after a long hiatus?

Or am I alone in this great big world?

Either way, I (or rather, my blog) is revamped and I can finally get around to actually writing something on this thing.

I haven't checked the date of my last post but I'm sure it's safe to say it's been far too long.

A lot has happened. Recap?

1. Mark and I moved to Ireland.

Yep. That sums it up.

So this first post back isn't going to be about this amazing country, what we've done since arriving or what the name of my favorite pub is (Tigh Neachtain's). This post, true to form, is going to be about art.

I came across two pieces recently. One IRL (in real life for all you internet-lingo-losers out there. Us winners call you the ILLs.) and one at a URL. Gosh I'm so clever with my abbreviations tonight!

The first:

Ai Weiwei's Sunflower Seeds has to be one of the coolest artworks I've come across in a long while. In the main turbine hall of the Tate Modern, over 100 million sunflower seeds were placed on the floor. And you're probably thinking...what a waste of food (At least that's where my ravenous mind/tummy goes)! BUT these sunflower seeds are not real sunflower seeds. Each seed in an individually made, hand painted piece of porcelain! Crazy right? CRAZY.

I loved this piece not just for the sheer magnitude or because I had the urge to steal one of these seeds and risk being banned from the Tate Modern forever, but because the emphasis on the piece was on the process, on the work that went into it. There was a video that accompanied this work that they showed in a small enclosure nearby and watching the process of the piece was fascinating. Ai Weiwei basically supported people in a small Chinese town that would normally be unemployed and penniless by creating this artwork. Art for the greater good? I'm sold.


A similar art piece that I came across online was this:

Meet Motoi Yamamoto and his labyrinths. He creates these works with salt--2,200 pounds of salt to be exact--and a helluva lot of patience. Now, different from Weiwei--who has had others involved throughout the whole process of Sunflower Seeds--Yamamoto creates the piece but then lets others change the maze or disrupt the maze if they so choose. (Sidenote: Tate Modern visitors used to be able to walk on the sunflower seeds but then they realized the dust from the porcelain could be hazardous. Also, a friend told me that they were practically sweeping it all back in place all the time--which to me would have been a major detraction. While it would have been cool to walk on them--and I would have been able to steal one easier that way--I'm glad it was the way it was by the time I got to it.)

Again, what is so amazing about these pieces is the sheer undertaking of the work itself--the process. However, they are also remarkable (in my opinion) because both men intentionally chose mediums and and processes that have significant meanings for their respective cultures and societies. Let me break it down for you:

Weiwei. Chinese. Mao. Mao as the Sun. Therefore, all Chinese people are sunflowers. Sunflower seeds as metaphor. Get it? It's explained better here.

Yamamoto. Japanese. Traditional symbol for purification and mourning in Japan: Salt. Mazes=eternity. There is a more personal reason behind the need to make mazes with salt. Curious what it is? Thought so. That's why I gave you the link earlier silly gooses!

Both Weiwei and Yamamoto's undertakings were extreme and massive, to say the least. But what they accomplish by working in such exaggerated numbers is a general sense of awe in the viewer. And what's even more impressive is that the awe is not limited to their visual effect. The awe is perpetuated by the process and the story behind the purpose of these pieces and what they represent.

Bottom line: Asians dominate.