how can you be creative and anonymous?
how dare you create something from nothing? without surprise is it even possible? without guesswork? exploration? questing? questioning?
and doesn’t consciousness need community? don’t you need others, and matter too?
in the desert hundreds, thousands of years ago, somebody made a stone horse, about twice life-size. it’s still there (the nature reader, 204-213). the creator/s and his/her/their reasons are gone. friends and children also.
for personal reasons i paint. guache on paper. my mother, dead 5 years, made me a quilt from cloth, which hangs in the livingroom. my father, dead 18 years, welded his grief from railroad ties into a sculpture. as with the titanic, fellow memorial, it will rust to nothing, but long after i and my reasoning are gone. the paintings, the quilt, the sculpture, the reasons, the love, the pain–they will become anonymous and decay or fade. that’s natural. like the stone horse in the desert, hopefully vandals will leave them alone.