On their own they seem banal and entirely mundane, but, given the right context, they can be revelatory.

They will contradict each other.

They may provide relief, or inspiration.

They may cause consternation, or even hopelessness.

But all may become helpful, given time and contemplation.

This list is almost irrelevant in its degree of incompletion. I hope to add to it as time goes by. Or you can, if you happen upon it. Either way, I intend for it to grow.

TIME, REALITY AND KNOWLEDGE

The past is no longer available for editing, but we can learn from it.

We do not have access to the future, but we can shape it.

We can draw from the past and shape the future, or but we are always moving towards death.

No one knows how much time they have before their physical form perishes.

The present is all we have to work with.

Wherever you go, there you are.

Whatever the state of reality, the cosmos, the planet, humanity or your own context, you can only work within whatever you are experiencing and have available to you right now.

You are only aware of a fraction of what is happening in your immediate context, and only slightly larger fraction of what you have available to you right now.

All knowledge is filtered by input, recording , interpretation and expression.

Each of these processes is coloured restricted and encapsulated by equipment, context, culture, and observer.

We cannot know anything for certain, for we cannot know infallibly what we can trust to measure or interpret correctly.

We can only know what we can measure.

We can only measure as much as our instruments allow us to gather, and as much as our understanding allows us to interpret.

We can only know what we experience.

We can only experience what our physical form allows, and what of that experience our brains are capable of comprehending.

We can trust that we exist.

Even if we don’t exist outside of a simulation or any other extra-paradigmatic contrivance, our experience of our existence is data we can — and do from moment to moment — interpret and act upon.

Thus, whatever the ultimate reality, we still have agency over our lived experience, even if it is limited.

This is, in a sense, why we can trust art more than most things. Its existence is a revelation of its nature; even as it winks coyly at fact, it is the bared breast of intention, a naked echo of the culture into which it reaches.

Art may be the only conversation that can keep secrets from itself, because it cannot know what truth it will tell to all people, especially those removed by time, context and culture.

It is the best (the only?) language we have to acknowledge and respond to the numinous, the ineffable, the spirit of the space. Even when we only use words, we lean into art to articulate the currents within and beyond the empirical.

I imagine a reason art is such a mainstay of human culture is because, on a subconscious level, it reminds us that we are aware; that our awareness is the womb of beauty (can a thing be beautiful if there is no observer to make it so?); that our nature to give intangible merit (or lack thereof) to empirical matter is a subtle assertion of our otherness.

We need art because it reminds us that we are human.

Maybe that is why, as every human discipline tries to comprehend reality and meaning and God, art stands aside and says, “Let me help you find your way.”

When math says “that equation is elegant”, there is art.
When science says “that theory is robust”, there is art.
When biology says “this enriches our understanding of this organic process”, there is art.
When economics says “this better describes what humanity values”, there is art.
When philosophy say “this expands our scope of understanding”, there is art.

And when art says “this is beautiful”, there is humanity.