Musings & "Nature is (not) Truth"

 

I've developed and maintained a nuanced skill of dissecting spaces, as well as the implications of the interactions within these dynamic environments.  In the past, the primary focus of my interests have catered to the construction and deconstruction of publicly shared spaces (e.g. sidewalks, subways, parks, storefronts, etc..). This was mostly due to my upbringing in an economically and ethnically diverse community; including a boiling curiosity for understanding sidewalks, their welcoming/divisive spaces, and their users. I was additionally motivated by a hunger for understanding the social hardships and lack of political representation I witnessed as a child and young teenager. Fast-forwarding through through three decades of experience, several research papers, and an amassed collection of books ranging from Freud, Kafka, Darwin, A. Rice, K Marx, Engels, Foucault, Duneier, Mills, and more, and you might just find yourself teetering on the cliff of my curiosities.

A new space that I spend much of my time exploring has revolved around the psychological modality of knowledge; that is to say, the history and construction of knowledge, and the consequence it has on truth. Such a relative word, I've learned, can have as many interpretations as there are stars in the sky. Even with a dead metaphor, the multitude of  juxtaposed truths cannot be captured. But I digress.

The purposes of this post is not to plague your time with riddles, but rather, to lure you into my senses. To make you wonder of the spaces you stand in, tangible and imagined, and to make you want to explore the history of you; your (mental and or physical) space, your surroundings, your mind, and your city.

Truth is not linear.

- Genesis 

Nature is (not) Truth

In the past there was the truth.

This truth was known to be a vile contortion of reality.
This truth was riddled with deformities, and worse of all,
Attempting to pass off as nature.

If you will, these phrasings and conceptualizations,
were an unmannered Victorian excuse for complacency,
And an even greater victim of his ignorance.

After all, they would have you believe Will has minimal authority over nature.

In some regard, these statements bear the face of facts;
Truth is a reflection of reality,
Nature, a reflection of truth,
And ignorance, the patterned parent of complacency.

So what does that make of our species, our truths, and
Significantly insignificant Dorian Gray-styled aesthetics?

Perhaps, that the conceptions of truth can be found within
The function of our shadowed past and pasteurized futures.