~
in this current state
of isolation
of solitude
of protection?
how do we relate?
when every gesture
has a lag
every laugh
has a glitch
how do we connect?
i already believed in auras
now more than ever
something is missing
something is fragmented by the reflection of the screen
by the rectangular version of myself
holding eye contact
while i talk to people i haven't felt in months
or ever
there are some relationships that have only ever existed in this space of
interconnected
loneliness
how do we love?
even when in isolation with the ones we love
the conversations begin to repeat themselves
even when far apart from the ones we love
the conversations begin to repeat themselves
how do we reach out?
across the duplicity
of never ending communication
and complete isolation
a shot in the dark
an ephemeral notification
a spark of hope
where is the space for comfort, for touch?
for warmth
for embrace
for hands
not just fingertips
where is the humanity?
in this world built by our predecessors,
did they forget
who we are?
~
something i fear is
the performance of love
it’s done so easily
and so often
it’s become commonplace
to make the gestures
the comments
the poses
to create a grid of evidence
that we are
authentic
complete
fulfilled
only to be scrolling
back to back
on different screens
in the same bed
something i fear is
losing how to express love
except through a double tap
on an impermeable glass window
that gazes into
the world
of
existence?
of
humanity?
something i fear is
that we’re forgetting how to remember
we rely too heavily on flashbacks and memories
to remember how and when and where
we love
who we love
why we love
i fear the performance is slowly becoming all we have
~
how does this space
of immateriality become
a womb of immortal memory
a bank of moments
that we can
refer to
or
reflect on
to show us
who we
were
who we
are?
to remind us how to be the best version of ourselves
how does the interconnectedness
we insist on teach us
how to reach out
or relate
can it become where we
find a whisper across an ocean of waves
that resonates with our own soul
more than anything ever has before
can it become where we learn to
disseminate and divulge secrets of humanity
anonymously
only to find an answer, a reflection, an other
who feels the same
who wants the same
who craves the same
can it become a relic
of our humanity
of this world
rather than a place that seems to be already sold
on being
a reflection of our loneliness
can it become a space of love, of warmth, of hope,
rather than a place where that is lost

Curation should always spotlight useful information and make it easier to understand the core message. Six specific ways to add value to information:

Validate: Ensure that information is reliable, current and supported by research.
Synthesize: Describe patterns, trends or flows in large amounts of information.
Present: Make information understandable through visualization or logical presentation.
Contextualize: Describe the information in the context of the organization or group.
Question: Critically examine the assumptions of a source of information.
Compare: Show how and where sources of information differ on a topic, and where they agree.

The role of the artist is exactly the same role, I think, as the role of the lover. If you love somebody, you honor at least two necessities at once. One of them is to recognize something very dangerous, or very difficult. Many people cannot recognize it at all, that you may also be loved; love is like a mirror. In any case, if you do love somebody, you honor the necessity endlessly, and being at the mercy of that love, you try to correct the person whom you love. Now, that’s a two-way street. You’ve also got to be corrected. As I said, the people produce the artist, and it’s true. The artist also produces the people. And that’s a very violent and terrifying act of love. The role of the artist and the role of the lover. If I love you, I have to make you conscious of the things you don’t see. Insofar as that is true, in that effort, I become conscious of the things that I don’t see. And I will not see without you, and vice versa, you will not see without me. No one wants to see more than one sees. You have to be driven to see what you see. The only way you can get through it is to accept that two-way street which I call love. You can call it a poem, you can call it whatever you like. That’s how people grow up. An artist is here not to give you answers but to ask you questions.

— James Baldwin, “The Black Scholar Interviews James Baldwin"