Things bound with waxed sail thread and resin

My subconscious has been working on a thesis for me lately; broadcasting things which on the surface (flattened and simplified by my waking mind) appear disparate, but on closer inspection are stitched together by a continuous thread.

Its thesis is about crafting sensible (or at least legible, recognizable) solutions, guides, codes to amorphous and unformed problems. Striving to find concrete solutions to riddles or puzzles only hinted at. Trying to map a place whose geography and even location is ever-shifting.

A reminder that, sometimes, the answers one wants or needs are unattainable because one is asking the wrong questions. It’s telegraphing this to me visually; that’s how I best understand the world. And the message coming through: I must widen my frame of reference, my view, in order to ask the right questions.

‘Maps for cephalopods’ is perhaps the most obvious— my subconscious’ version of hitting me over the head; a wry attempt at a movie-montage or voice-over exposition— and its point at least two-fold;

one— It appears to be an impossible task. Possibly, it only seems impossible because I’m approaching it the same way I do my usual or accustomed kinds of projects, when in fact it requires a new perspective, or even an entirely different set of tools. (It may call for tools or talents not to hand, in which case I may be the wrong person for the job.)

leading to— Perhaps a nudge from myself to myself, to ask whether all of the tasks I take on are in alignment with my best talents or strengths. It may be about finding better problems; problems better suited to my approach, my process. About a pivot, to use contemporary parlance.

It addresses my work towards being a better storyteller (with words, with images), but also a re-packaging of something much larger (though still connected)— the composition of the next chapter of the story that I’m building, that I’m living.

One can’t arrive at the desired outcome by only moving the pieces on the board defensively.

It’s a reminder to be deliberate, to be vigilant. A driver cannot also be a passenger.