One day they began to notice that what we call reality, consensus and norms are built on a permanent background of chaotic experiences and experiences, personal discords and incoherences. And human nature seems to be a realm, which, the more we explore, the more unknown it becomes. They saw that the desire to understand, to find the ultimate answer, to find out the essence of things, sometimes pushes us to find in the end only the projection of our own illusions. The long-sought objectivity often seems like a commonplace stone that a fanatic vehemently proclaims to be a precious stone.
Humbled by his own helplessness in the face of this impossible problem, the Madman, the Artist, the Cynic and the Old Child agree to embark on a ship that has no other destination than the road itself.
. – What sane, pragmatic and rational person would do such a thing?! –
He gives up the need to fixate, to be sure he knows the truth and above all to the fear of not being able to discern the mystery of his own reality. Perinda, sometimes smiling, sometimes frowning, sometimes barefoot, showing the world his reflection. For this he is sometimes banished, isolated, treated with superior kindness, rejected, ignored and at other times, at the opposite caricature pole, glorified as an undiscovered messiah. Less often listened to with gentleness and indulgence, for fear of the possibility of seeing in it one’s reflection and to avoid confrontation with the other side of human existence, infinitely unknown and eternally inaccessible to rational understanding.
Could the other who is not me – the stranger, the unknown, the strange, the crazy, the ‘other’ – actually be the one who shows us who we are? Don’t we turn our backs on him only to look with blind trust and pride at a white sheet on which we also wrote in a corner the ‘ultimate reality’? Who is really crazy?
This ‘other’ is sad but not upset, he remains there in the background, where he found his place, on the edge of the frame, on busy streets, on a hilltop, by the water’s edge, on a forgotten stone, in the welcoming nature of which comes. It probably awaits you in the obscure nothingness of being, of being human, of confusing but inevitable interconnectedness. He imagines that if it stays where you put it or forgot it you will be gentler, you will come back to walk or stand together, like two trees, side by side, neither better, neither madder.
In the end, where will the limit be? How far can we go with ambition, with omniscient attitudes? When do we stop? When were we listening? When will we look without pretending to know exactly what we’re looking at?
And maybe.. if.. we stop from time to time.. look through the cracks of what we know we know.. take a deep breath.. revisit certainties..
Maybe.. making time for such ‘adventures’ we don’t lose so much in the daily economy of life..
Maybe in the grand scheme of things we will win..
Maybe.. in the end.. we will have access to a slightly wider perspective..
.. in an attempt to understand ourselves and others..
The article was written as part of the work process within [ship of fools] An Indie Box project co-financed by the National Cultural Fund Administration. The project does not necessarily represent the position of the National Cultural Fund Administration. AFCN is not responsible for the content of the project or how the results of the project may be used. These are entirely the responsibility of the beneficiary of the funding.