An examination of our cultural rejection of humanity’s interconnectedness with each other, the ecosystem, and various natural cycles for the sake of endless exponential growth and parasitic profit margins. Putting life, death, and internal inclinations into perspective through the cyclical nature of the seasons. And questioning the need to appear evergreen—a resource ready for use—always in a state of doing, just to get by.
As the next generation exits schooling and begins their foray into the career space, the moment of their celebrated end to matriculation is being overshadowed by speakers shoehorning AI inevitability into their faces. The boos, turned backs, and walkouts have made it clear that a solid portion of the debuting generation are already fed up.
I had dispersed the grip my phone had on my reality and rendered it less powerful. But it wasn’t all birdsong and silence. Outside of getting lost frequently, and the amount of time it took to send a text—which was both a skill and will issue—there were other cons. Without social media or a smartphone, the lack of ease in communication left me out of the loop. That was my goal, of course, but feelings in reality are often different from expectations.
Welcome to Spring! The season featuring wet earth, chatty birds, wardrobe uncertainty, and soon…babies, babies, babies. Both a season on its own as well as a transitionary period. Winter fitfully thawing into Summer as the frigid rot fertilizes the new growth.
Time, at the core of our existence, drives everything we experience and more. For there to be a beginning, there must be time. We’ve deified it. Measured it. Our lives seem consumed by our need to track, race, defeat, and extend it. We’ve commodified it, converting our prescribed measurements into dollars and cents. How much is your labor worth?