Creating New Worlds
We live in inherited worlds. We live in worlds where the architecture was built for strange, long forgotten purposes by architects long gone. We contort ourselves into strange positions while taking comfort in the belief that there is nothing to do be done about it.
For both the establishment players, the children of the architects, and for refugees, the children of whom are taught to be grateful, there is an inherent fear of change.
The imperialist dreams of our long decaying architects live on in the walls that run through our hearts and minds. Surely we can find the courage to demolish them? Surely we can overcome the sick fear that’s been drilled inside of us whenever we contemplate taking a hammer to the walls? Surely we can find the willingness to wield the many tools we’ve been blessed with? Surely we can find those who will stand in solidarity with us?
Don’t all acts of creation begin with acts of loving deconstruction?
What can we do to remember that letting something new come means letting something else go? What do we need to let go of? What do we need to remember? How can we remain connected to our rage? To our heart, to our gut and to our spine? How can we cultivate clarity of vision without becoming monsters?
We hold the architecture of our worlds as sacred. This despite the inadequacy of shelter, the ugliness of the aesthetic and the fast changing weather. The future is “Old people living in cities scared of the sky.”
Well, no. If there ever was a time to create it is now. If there ever was a time to re-tell the old stories that give us power it is now. If there was ever a time to tell new stories that give us a view it is now. If there was ever a time to rage, rage against the dying of the light it is now. If there was ever a time to build new worlds it is now.