On plastic waste.

Practicality?

No…. I think it’s fear.

I think all our problems derive from our fear of losing the 3rd dimension.

All the objects act as maps that demark and respect a linear world we created for ourselves in our fantasized protuberant reality.

Isn’t that the function of plastic?

You could think that trees and nature could take care of that, but are they really that material? Are they really there?

The leaves break at the slightest contact with a strong wind- the flowers, the rivers, all in constant motion, in constant apathy of our hands.

Nothing fits in a room, nothing stays put in a room, nothing to remind us that our existence is solid, permanent, real.

(Is it?)

Let’s stuff the oceans with plastic, should we not find a bottom.

Let’s surround ourselves with depictions of solidity.

Whatever you can find! Color! Throw in some color... and shape and texture, and why not some meaning to it too!

Anything that keeps us from expanding- we may explode and become galaxies…

God save us…

I think I am nailing the void.

All those stories, the books, art… the void.

Fear of the void.

Fear of conceptuality, of non dimensionality.
I think I am nailing it.

I think.

I see a lamp, and behind that lamp, a curtain, and behind that, a window, cars, buildings, walls. 

It all makes me feel safe.

It makes me feel I am still here.

The three-dimensionality makes me feel more here, less there… (in outer space).
It makes me feel... something…

(…or am I imagining the atoms?)