We can Imagine our world into reality and we can use words to express a version, imperfect or perfect into existence.
This is art: The transference of subjective experience to another, but more than that, art re-creates the environment back at us by way of the experience of it. That’s the wicked twist and turn, the weird beautiful tertiary effect that lives amongst the unknown.
However…
We can’t know how we’ll be affected.
We can believe we will, but…
This is what we are doing, imagining and engineering an experience of the world in infinite ways, perhaps toward a particular end, perhaps as a total mystery.
Imagination…
Writing…
Creation…
Designing the world while simultaneously being designed…
p.s.
Personal notes on outcomes and tautology, I am closely and nearly perfectly in love with the mess of life, and believe it will always be a mess, as it has always been a mess, beautiful in its way, the grace and wonder of confusion.