La visione è intuito puro, mezzo che libera la nostra creatività e dà forma alle idee che lo hanno risvegliato. Le nostre esperienze, quelle di persone che incrociamo, con cui abbiamo relazioni di ogni genere, ci cambiano, tolgono, danno. Siamo sotto continuo stimolo e tutto ciò ci muta inevitabilmente. Il nostro punto di vista diventa sempre più soggettivo, personale, sempre più sfaccettato e complesso, incoerente e pieno di significato. Per questo la necessità di raccontare, comunicare, suscitare qualcosa negli occhi di chi guarda qualcosa che viene da una visione, da un altro punto di vista, o meglio, punto di visione, personale: da qui nasce .vision, una visione di parte che si manifesta come ideale nell’idea.
Le parole, che ci parlano dell’animo - soprattutto ad esso - cercano di prendere forma attraverso queste illustrazioni, che non cercano di descriverne il significato ma sono frutto delle sensazioni e dei loro influssi. Dove l’immaginazione inizia. Dove le parole non arrivano.
n. it’s hard not to look at the ground as you walk. To set your sights low, and keep the world spinning, and try to stay grounded wherever you are. But every so often you remember to look up, and imagine the possibilities. Dreaming of what’s out there. Before long, you find yourself grounded once again. Grounded in the sense of being homebound. Stuck on the planet Earth.
n. the desire that memory could flow backward. We take it for granted that life moves forward. But you move as a rower moves, facing backwards: you can see where you’ve been, but not where you’re going. And your boat is steered by a younger version of you. It’s hard not to wonder what life would be like facing the other way.
n. a state of exhaustion inspired by an act of senseless violence, which forces you to revise your image of what can happen in this world - mending the fences of your expectations, weeding out invasive truths, cultivating the perennial good that’s buried under the surface - before propping yourself up in the middle of it like an old scarecrow, who’s bursting at the seams but powerless to do anything but stand there and watch.
n. the part of your identity that doesn’t fit into categories. When you were born they put you in a little box and slapped a label on it. But if we begin to notice these categories no longer fit us, maybe it’ll mean that we’ve finally arrived - just unpacking the boxes, making ourselves at home.
n. the frustration of being stuck in just one body, that inhabits only one place at a time, which is like standing in front of the departures screen at an airport, flickering over with strange place names like other people’s passwords, each representing one more thing you’ll never get to see before you die and all because, as the arrow on the map helpfully points out, you are here.
n. the kind of unnoticed excellence that carries on around you every day, unremarkably - the hidden talents of friends and coworkers, the fleeting solos of subway buskers, the slapdash eloquence of anonymous users, the unseen portfolios of aspiring artists - which would be renowned as masterpieces if only they’d been appraised by the cartel of popular taste, who assume that brilliance is a rare and precious quality, accidentally overlooking buried jewels that may not be flawless but are still somehow perfect.
n. the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own-populated with their own ambitions, friends, routines, worries and inherited craziness-an epic story that continues invisibly around you like an anthill sprawling deep underground, with elaborate passageways to thousands of other lives that you’ll never know existed, in which you might appear only once, as an extra sipping coffee in the background, as a blur of traffic passing on the highway, as a lighted window at dusk.
n. the time duration wherein one’s perceptions are considered to be in the present. Time perception studies the sense of time, which differs from other senses since time cannot be directly perceived but must be reconstructed by the brain.
n. a concept in traditional Japanese aesthetics constituting a world view centered on the acceptance of transience and imperfection. The aesthetic is sometimes described as one of beauty that is imperfect, impermanent, and incomplete.
n. the realization that as a kid you run around so fast, the world around you seems to stand still. A summer vacation can stretch on for an eternity. With each birthday we circle back and cross the same point around the sun. We wish each other ‘many happy returns.’ But soon you feel the circle begin to tighten, and you realize it’s a spiral, and you’re already halfway through. Life is short and life is long, but not in that order