Please bring strange things.
Please come bringing new things.
Let very old things come into your hands.
Let what you do not know come into your eyes.
Let desert sand harden your feet.
Let the arch of your feet be the mountains.
Let the paths of your fingertips be your maps
and the ways you go be the lines on your palms.
Let there be deep snow in your inbreathing
and your outbreath be the shining of ice.
May your mouth contain the shapes of strange words.
May you smell food cooking you have not eaten.
May the spring of a foreign river be your navel.
May your soul be at home where there are no houses.
Walk carefully, well loved one,
walk mindfully, well loved one,
walk fearlessly, well loved one.
Return with us, return to us,
be always coming home.
"I came to understand that whatever the new technologies of representation are at any one moment, those that wield it, believe they are building a new kind of heavenly Utopia. I think the ephemeral nature of VR, the feeling of being real and unreal at the same time, lends itself to this heavenly guise. And artistically, when you bring an audience into a space that holds onto this edge (i.e. dreamlike/ghost-like), users tend to feel that they are having a kind of transformative, heavenly experience. But isn't this what art generally should have as its mission! For me, the glitzy, sensationalist, sexy-product idea of VR is all wrong. Not quite "arty" enough for my gusto. It should be more of a spiritual journey. And I am sure that the more personal and economical means that artists embrace out of economic necessity are also to our advantage. I am quite happy to leave the blockbusters to entertainment, pedagogy, and science." Claudia Hart