Viscerally Tired

Tired of false assumptions, projections, flawed world views, patriarchy, misogyny, misrepresentations, malice, haughtiness, duplicity, idiocy, snarkiness. Tired of finding myself stuck in vicious cycles. Tired of the entire world so I gravitate towards myself. Tired of judgy people. Jealous people. Manipulative people – they’re everywhere. Hateful people. Toxic people. Tired of obsessions about aging. Tired of pathologies. Tired of neuroticism. Tired of fake friends. Tired of being expected to feign enthusiasm. Joy, at all times. Passion. Care. Empathy for the wicked. Tired of people’s insecurities and projections silently slipping into my subconscious. Tired of being judged for being disenchanted. Unhappy. Yet self-sufficient. Tired of the fact that my prettiness in others’ fickle views (that they feel the need to express for some reason) fluctuates depending on whether I look entertained by someone’s fake discourse or whether I exhibit self-confidence versus self-deprecation. Tired of double meanings. Tired of ignoring the imminent necessity for a chemical dependency. Tired of being perceived. Tired of being misperceived. Tired of caring about being misperceived to the point of extreme self-censorship. Tired of succumbing to the impulse of being authentic and regretting it. Tired of dissecting everything I say from dozens of shifting perspectives. Tired of seeing everyone’s blind spots except for mine. Tired of misanthropic people. Tired of judging misanthropic people. I am one of them sometimes – it doesn’t take much, so I need to embrace this shadow side. Tired of thinking in binaries. Tired of myself. Tired of being tired. No, this isn’t what a mental health breakdown looks like for me. Not to worry, when I have a breakdown I’m frozen and can’t update any of my social media channels or engage at all. Except for, maybe, Tumblr. But usually I can do nothing but scroll.

[This is an older blog post. Unfortunately, I don’t know the corresponding date]

Hypnopompic Sight

I opened my eyes and gasped at the sight of this tiny alien organism that had just traversed the dream world and was crawling on the ceiling. I blinked and nothing changed. I shut my eyes for a few seconds and opened them again. Its silhouette was still there, yet with every little move, it was getting ghostlier. Everything about it was unnatural – perhaps that’s the wrong word, but no word could adequately describe it. Its moves, although spider-like, were oddly graceful, so it miraculously managed not to trigger my phobia. Because it was something else entirely. It looked like a 3D molecular structure. I couldn’t quite tell if it was a living, breathing being or a synthetic one. Was it watching me? Scanning me? Did it possess the technology to analyse my brain waves from afar? Or even read and record my thoughts? I stared at it in disbelief and apprehension until it faded away. I sighed, anticipating that wasn’t going to be the only uncanny glitch of the day.

Misunderstood, Unperturbed Self

When I find myself in situations where I’m allowed to be myself, I notice how my discourse changes in my writings. My inner life is allowed to breathe, and the landscape of my soul becomes more vivid and expansive. By virtue of this expansion, it becomes more alluring. Strangely, when I’m not concerned with anything besides myself and conveying my inner life unperturbed by others, this allure draws people in my proximity. I then tend to find myself at a crossroads. I have learned not to let anyone cross my borders without a meticulous and often undetectable process of selection. Because of that, I’m sometimes inclined to test people. Yet, I try to do so while keeping every interaction genuine. Although I am a perceiver (INTP), I can’t deny I judge their responses more harshly and quickly than I would ever wish to be judged. In my view, I employ the right system of reference in my judgment. However, I must admit, I hate being analysed; it irks me profoundly.

When I am given the space to be myself, I have no desire to prove anything—and I mean this in the most positive way, unrelated to lack of productivity, hence everything feels more genuine as the walls of the fortress retreat in the ground. There is still a surrounding portal, veil-like, between my world and everything else, seemingly transparent, but in actuality having a transformative function, of shaping perspective, both ways: Representations of the other gaze in, seeing what they wish; depending on how healed or emotionally aware they are, they might see everything warped by projections or get closer to my meaning. Likewise, I look out, seeing the world through my filter, penetrative or transformative, surface-shattering, depth-piercing, death-defying.

When I’m in an environment where it’s unclear whether it’s sustainable for my true self, I’m sometimes (not always) ready to show up as myself, even if it means being misunderstood and subsequently irritated. What feels best is being unperturbed by others’ interpretations. My problem is that I can always see the world from a multitude of perspectives, which is both a blessing and a curse. This requires me to make an effort to pick the perspective most aligned with my self-concept and established set of values and beliefs, and then stand by it, regardless of the other perspectives I can give voice to. Life is sometimes about what you choose to pay attention to.

There have been times in my life when I couldn’t write—not because my inspiration or creativity deserted me, but because they were suppressed, captive, muted, just as I felt suppressed, captive, muted. During these times, a false self replaced me, influenced by external projections, reacting to others’ impulses, stepping into a role that was as distant as possible from the traits embodied by the people I disliked around me. How do I explain this without sounding like I’m drowning in the fluctuations of being? Or without it sounding like I haven’t embraced my shadow self? Can I even claim that, with certainty, to myself?

Microaggressions

How do you deal with microaggressions? I tend to oscillate between two outlooks in this department: on the one hand, I like standing up for myself and not letting anyone cross or undermine me; on the other hand, I’m aware that sometimes maintaining your composure is a sign that you are in control of your emotions and it can also be indicative of your inner strength, so not necessarily a sign of meekness. BK Shivani, a motivational speaker and spiritual mentor said in one of her lectures that when someone directs negative energy towards you, you have a choice: you can either absorb the energy and internalise it without saying anything, because you think this is aligned with the notion of being a good person. You can throw it back at them hence reflecting the energy and trying to hurt the other person even more. Or you can transform the energy and the pain and radiate love and respect. The most important thing is: I don’t end up blaming myself for the way I deal with it. I don’t think of any approach as more “dignified” than another. Wiser, maybe. But dignity loss or preservation are out of the question in this type of scenario – those who initiate the microaggressions are the ones lacking both dignity and a moral compass (this behaviour almost always comes from a sense of inferiority that they feel within themselves), the person on the receiving end is entitled to act in whichever way they feel or wish in response without losing dignity points.

I have experienced microaggressions in both professional and personal contexts. When it happens, it’s often fuelled by sexism, misogyny (or internalised misogyny in the case of other women), xenophobia, and mental health stigma, especially if I go through a bad mood or I reveal anything that indicates my mental health isn’t at 100%. This can also lead to gaslighting, as some people might use this aspect as a trump card to shift blame whenever something goes wrong, usually when it’s their fault. This is why I’ve become reluctant to reveal when I’m unwell. Jealousy and other unknown factors can also play a role. It’s important to remember that these microaggressions are never about me; they’re always about the other person’s feelings of self-loathing and disempowerment. I must say, the majority of people I’ve met and interacted with are not like this. Most of the time, I’ve been fortunate to be selective in my interactions and friendships.

This behaviour manifested itself through rather revolting attitudes such as certain people doing and saying things just to try to elicit a reaction out of me (especially when it was transparent that I was not feeling okay – some people have this wicked strange satisfaction of making things worse for those who are already visibly unhappy; personally, when I see someone who is unhappy for whatever reason I either leave them alone or try to help them but not everyone shares my common sense or empathy), ridiculing me when I exhibited emotional behaviour, comments and judgements based on my fluid accent, interrupting me, expressing doubts about my capacity to assess a situation or the motivations behind someone’s remarks accurately, thinly veiled malicious remarks that were meant to be antagonising, snarky behaviour, and the list goes on.

I’ve always been viscerally disgusted by this behaviour, but I didn’t tend to acknowledge any of it unless it was directly and unambiguously offensive, generally. Why? I suppose out of pride – i.e. not wanting to give satisfaction to anyone engaging in this type of behaviour, since that’s most likely what they were after: a reaction, thus ignoring them tends to work in my favour because it makes them escalate the behaviour to ludicrous levels, and in their desperate hunt for a reaction they end up turning themselves into absolute clowns in my eyes and hopefully in the eyes of any other decent person who witnesses this type of decline. Plus, I didn’t want to come across as or view myself as a victim or as insecure by openly acknowledging such behaviour and appearing affected by it. Especially since more often than not, this type of behaviour is subtle and insidious, often subliminal. Which I find even more gross and manipulative, when it’s clearly done consciously.

I have learnt to accept that some people simply feel threatened by others’ energy even when others are simply existing; it’s pretty sad to think they feel inclined to act in such ways out of nowhere. When they encounter someone who is creative, intelligent, attractive, talented, or someone who is overall special in some way, the terminally insecure go into attack mode. They often resort to passive-aggressiveness. We have to ignore the obvious or veiled malice of the pathologically jealous, and see them for what they truly are: pitiful; otherwise resentment builds, and you shouldn’t allow insecure people to drop their emotional baggage onto you via insults because one day you might find yourself carrying that extra weight, which could lead to your lashing out and being the one demonised for being too reactive, albeit rightfully so. But that’s what happens when you find yourself in a toxic environment. Dissimulation can only get you so far.

How do you react when someone triggers you? What is your reaction and thought process when a person you can’t ignore maliciously triggers you? (so on purpose & with ill intent, not accidentally). Let’s say you get into fight-flight-freeze mode initially, as it tends to happen – do you manage to move on from that, to distance yourself emotionally from the situation in order to have a more calculated and beneficial response that makes you regain control (over your emotional state)? How long does the feeling last? Do echoes of that experience linger in your mind for a long time afterwards? Do you tend to confess your most powerful triggers to your friends or partners and trust them to know what to do with this information?

The Path Within: Exploring One’s Emotional Landscape through a Metaphysical Lens

Embrace kindness, grace, tenderness, and understanding towards yourself as you proceed on a journey of self-reflection, integrating the various facets that form your unique identity. A moment of tranquillity. Let down your guard and approach yourself with gentleness. Set aside time for introspection, allowing your thoughts, fears, and emotions to surface. As you reopen past wounds, you can create a path for healing and discover methods to effectively process them in ways that feel safe to you. Engage in this self-exploration with an open heart and mind, ready to confront both your strengths and vulnerabilities. Recognise that this journey is about identifying what needs to be healed or changed, as well as about appreciating the resilience and wisdom you have gained through your experiences. Acknowledge the courage it takes to delve into the depths of your psyche, exploring the complex fabric of your thoughts, beliefs, and emotions. Seek to understand the intricate layers of your being, and how they shape the way you perceive the world around you. Remember, this process is a powerful act of self-love and self-care, an essential step towards embracing your true self and living a more conscious, fulfilled life.

I believe self-worth is a key element in all of this. It would be ideal to ground our journey of self-discovery and integration in a strong sense of self-worth. A self-assured basis, at least in relation to worthiness, enables us to navigate our emotions and interactions with others from a place of confidence and authenticity. Personally, I feel in alignment with the view that every human being possesses intrinsic worth from the beginning of existence. In Sculptor in the Sky, Teal Swan emphasises this aspect as well, while pointing out that society often conditions people to believe that worth is contingent on achievement, success, or acquiring skills – thus on external validation. This societal conditioning leads to a misconception that one must constantly strive and perform to be valuable. Miss Swan encourages readers to recognise and reconnect with their intrinsic value, independent of external factors. I believe that striving for achievements and gaining skills and knowledge is beneficial, provided it doesn’t overshadow our intrinsic worth or lead our spirit astray from what truly matters. There is also the suggestion that deep within, people hold profound knowledge and understanding about life and existence, and that there are great advantages to remembering it – because this knowledge is often lost or obscured due to life experiences, societal norms, and cultural conditioning. The aim is to help people rediscover and reconnect with this innate wisdom, which Miss Swan believes is essential for personal and spiritual growth. Another key theme that is relevant to our narrative is the importance of recognising one’s ability to shape their own life, so that one moves away from victimhood to a position of strength and agency.

Let’s shift our focus to the realm of conflict and our emotional responses in these challenging situations. Contemplate your instinctive emotional response during conflicts. You might lean towards anger, anxiety, sadness, defensiveness, guilt, shame, or fear. Reflect on your typical modes of expression when distressed. You could find yourself redirecting, seeking mediation, ignoring, compromising, yelling, blaming, or perhaps withdrawing completely. Ponder on whether your reaction is a direct response to the present situation or a reflection of past traumas and unresolved issues. Do you notice patterns in your behaviour that are repetitive and perhaps unhelpful in resolving conflicts? Do you tend to resort to projection, casting others into roles that align with your own internal narratives, usually associating the person in front of you with other figures from your history? Consider whether you are confronting the person right in front of you or an amalgamation of phantoms from your past, the manifestations of your emotional baggage. In our interactions, we believe we’re arguing over current issues, but often, we’re actually grappling with deeper, long-standing emotions like feeling ignored, undervalued, or excluded. As we subconsciously attempt to resolve these past issues, we find ourselves repeating these scenarios, hoping for a different outcome. However, to truly change the narrative, we must live in the present and recognise people for who they are now, instead of holding them accountable for past hurts inflicted by others. If the person in front of you says things that cause you to spiral while crossing a boundary that you explicitly expressed, feeling betrayed and disillusioned is a natural, healthy response that is in alignment with self-love. After a boundary violation that isn’t very severe and, as a result, we choose to forgive, it’s wise to create a strategy outlining our expectations for how the other person should engage with us moving forward. On the other hand, when we’re talking about something unforgivable, some of us might respond with anger (which is valid), others might be tempted to rationalise, to justify the other person’s behaviour; in the process, we might recognise that the person operates from a wounded, unhealed part that has to rely on all sorts of defences. If another person’s energy is not beneficial to the current version of you, on this path of self-care, worth, and discovery, don’t feel pressured to be their saviour, it’s not your responsibility. It’s a better idea to protect yourself, and perhaps, if it feels right, turn inward and think of when you yourself allowed the wounded part of you to be in charge in similar ways.

Consider the emotions in others that unsettle you the most. What judgments do you harbour towards these feelings? Ask yourself if you allow these emotions in your own life. Identify the traits in others that you find off-putting, such as greed, negativity, insensitivity, or arrogance, and explore whether you notice any echoes of these traits within yourself. Reflect on how acknowledging these traits in others impacts your interactions and perceptions. Ponder the possibility that your reaction to these traits might reveal deeper aspects of your own character that you have yet to fully understand or accept. Use this awareness as an opportunity for self-improvement, aiming to cultivate compassion and empathy both for yourself and for others. That way, you can foster a deeper sense of connection and understanding in your relationships. There are also times when you might feel a strong resistance towards someone, without realising why, exactly. If you ever feel repelled by someone’s personality, in real life or online, try to wonder why. Sure, sometimes, it could be pretty justified, they might be hypocritical or not align with your standards, they might hold psychopathic, extremist views, or be someone who crosses your boundaries of emotional safety with their views or attitude in some way. In which case, that’s not something you have to concern yourself with. But, if you can’t quite tell why the things they say or write about bother you that much, look at what you might supress in your own personality. Analyse this person and analyse yourself.

A journey of self-discovery has to transcend acceptance – it’s about integration. I was reflecting on instances where I found myself inexplicably repulsed by someone’s demeanour or way of interacting; I soon realised it was sometimes my own suppressed judgments resurfacing. Bare in mind I’m not referring to instances where I’ve actually been wronged or harmed by people. In the rare instances where someone’s personality repelled me without a reason I could pinpoint at the time, I began to explore the idea of the existence of various “selves” within one person, each representing different facets of our being, even the disowned selves – our shadow, which should ideally be integrated. In my case, perhaps it was not just one-dimensional; maybe there were conflicting aspects at play. What bothered me was that the person was overly critical and negative, while at the same time smiling most of the time and seeming friendly, which I perceived to be unpleasantly contradictory. Delving into this approach, I realised how interesting and unintuitive the process of integrating our shadows can be – the suppressed judgments and unexplored aspects of ourselves that surface in response to certain personalities can be revealed to us in ways that surprise us. Splitting ourselves into different selves, each exhibiting unique traits and perspectives, allows for a more comprehensive understanding of the human mind. Like a psychological mosaic meant for a holistic self-awareness, you have to embrace both the light and shadow elements within.

Let’s focus on happiness. In his book on bliss, Osho differentiates between happiness, pleasure, and bliss, emphasising that true happiness is a state of being, not just a fleeting emotion. He suggests that happiness is a deeper, more sustainable state than pleasure, which is often momentary, hedonistic, and externally driven. Bliss is a heightened state of joy and contentment, with a transcendental element, stemming from a profound inner peace and self-understanding. In the context of one’s self-discovery journey, in my opinion it’s important to recognise that while happiness involves embracing and integrating our full spectrum of experiences and emotions, there is also a place for the innocent pleasures of life. Little joys, such as the enjoyment of the scent of a distinguished, evocative perfume, a beautiful building, or experiencing a random act of kindness have their value. These small pleasures, while fleeting, add colour and texture to our lives. They are not in opposition to true happiness, but rather, they can coexist as part of a balanced and fulfilling life. Embracing these simple joys is not superficial; it is acknowledging and appreciating the various aspects of life that bring us momentary delight. As we strive for a deeper happiness and integrate our various selves, including our shadow aspects, we can also allow ourselves to enjoy these innocent pleasures without guilt. This balanced approach leads to a more authentic and holistic sense of joy, blending the pursuit of deeper, internal fulfilment with the appreciation of life’s simple pleasures. Being able to appreciate such moments of pure, unfiltered, spontaneous joy, is indicative of a healthy, balanced perspective on life and a deep capacity for gratitude and presence. In our interactions with friends, we can share these joys while also engaging in deeper, more meaningful connections, embodying a true sense of happiness that encompasses both the light and the playful, enjoyable moments of life. The problem appears when we solely seek temporary pleasures, mistaking them for complete happiness, while neglecting the deeper work of integrating our various selves, including our shadow aspects, in order to resolve internal conflicts and reach inner harmony. As mentioned, happiness involves embracing the full spectrum of our experiences and emotions, finding balance and harmony within. It is about acknowledging and integrating the light and shadow within us. This understanding allows us to seek a more authentic and lasting sense of joy, which is less about external validation or fleeting pleasures and more about a deep, internal sense of fulfilment.

In moments of comfort and ease with friends, consider the sides of yourself you reveal. You may be playful, thoughtful, or reserved. Address any misperceptions others might have about you that cause pain. Envision the kind of recognition and appreciation you desire from others, and think about ways to embody those qualities now. Reflect on which emotions you would like to become more at ease with. Ponder how these comfortable interactions with friends might serve as a mirror, reflecting aspects of yourself that you may not regularly acknowledge or appreciate. Delve into the reasons why certain emotions are more challenging for you to embrace, and contemplate strategies to cultivate a healthier relationship with them. Acknowledge the importance of vulnerability in building deeper connections and trust with others. As you work towards becoming more comfortable with a wider range of emotions, remember that this process is a key part of personal growth and developing a more authentic and fulfilling way of relating to both yourself and the people around you.

Finally, identify a behavioural pattern or habit you’re prepared to transform. This introspective journey is about self-awareness, but also about evolving into the most genuine and enlightened version of yourself. This process of self-exploration is a profound step towards spiritual growth and personal fulfilment. Embrace the courage required to confront and change these deep-seated habits. Understand that this transformation may challenge you, but it is a significant part of your journey towards self-mastery. As you pursue this path, be patient and kind to yourself, recognising that change is a gradual process. Remember, this journey is also about understanding the underlying motivations and emotions that drive them. This way, you cultivate a deeper sense of self-awareness, leading to more meaningful and lasting change. This path to personal evolution opens up new possibilities for joy, fulfilment, and a more authentic way of living.

The intricate journey of self-reflection, embracing our inherent worth whilst inviting change and avoiding stagnating in unhappiness, and understanding our complex emotional responses to conflict and relationships are deeply intertwined with the universal fabric of existence. As we navigate our internal world, confronting and integrating our shadow selves, and striving towards personal growth, we inherently influence the collective consciousness. This interconnectedness accentuates the significance of our emotional and spiritual journey, highlighting how our inner transformations contribute to the broader mosaic of human experience and the universe itself. This interplay between the personal and the universal has to be recognised, in order to approach our journey with a heightened sense of purpose and awareness, understanding that our quest for self-mastery and fulfilment is deeply connected to the greater whole, designing a more empathetic and unified world.

Uncanny Synergy

I awaken in pure exaltation in a meadow bathed in sunlight. Everything is enveloped in luminous splendour. The lake of memory ripples and glistens with echoes of myths and fairy tales. There is something intrinsically immaculate about this moment. It feels as if this corner of the world has been ritualistically transfigured by forces that have had access to moments that evoked my noblest emotions. Or that my dream-weaving mind from a parallel reality is actively manifesting a mosaic of a world that I could feel in perfect alignment with.

I decide to explore my surroundings. I increasingly get the feeling that the place is sentient – a living, breathing, intoxicating sanctuary. The breeze touches my body with the ambivalent gentleness of a yearning spirit. There is an enigmatic scent cloaked in various elements, clothed with the vibrancy of an undefined passion. I reach an alien stone structure on top of which there is a crystal coffin. The woman inside looks like me. Her clothing embodies an exquisite, non-clichéd version of the cybergoth aesthetic. Although motionless, her body seems neither lifeless nor in the alluring state of catalepsy of most female waxworks stuck in reverie. She awakens, with her face bathed in sunlight. Her presence is enveloped in luminous splendour. There is something intrinsically immaculate about her, like her substance has been ritualistically transfigured by celestial beings.

She starts exploring her surroundings. As she appears to strangely, naturally assimilate the environment, I feel like I’m witnessing a process of symbiosis. Her movements are of an uncanny, refined quality that blends in with the landscape and speaks with the language of light. This world seems to have been created in her image. In her I catch glimpses of a level of aliveness that I’ve never seen in anyone else. Her discreet glances over her bare shoulder make me think she is waiting for someone, or some external thing.

I hear a disturbing, mystical interference sound and see flickering lights. The fabric of the world is briefly cracking to make space for another body, which materialises out of thin air. Twilight falls. She looks at him. It’s apparent they know each other from a parallel universe; the encounter is not serendipitous. Their eyes – both life-giving and annihilating – are glinting with rapture. She moves towards him through the dusky landscape, soft and languid, proceeding with a whimsical charm on the fragrant earth. What follows is their embrace – the drowsy sweetness of it.

Her resonant words are breaking the overpowering silence, being hauntingly echoed within all the natural elements around them. Listening to the melodious outpouring, his liquid gaze subtly changes. Their substances intertwine. Her life source becomes a part of him. His life source – a part of her. Their pupils are wide as they both take close-up views into each other. Here, this means experiencing the other’s entire life in a flash. Every moment of agony, ecstasy, every glimpse of the soul and of the dark night of the soul in its various manifestations. Everything around them shifts vibration: the elusive, undefined sense of ontological yearning becomes palpable. The atmosphere turns sultry. The ecstatic movements of nature fluctuate between frantic, impetuous, violent and soft, languorous, soothing. I am filled with a deep sense of rapture under the light of creation. Visible and invisible forces are harmonising and constantly replicating, giving birth to their higher selves, until the landscape is of an ineffable resplendence. Their encounter nurtures and transfigures the eco-system.

Aesthetic Sensibility

The narrative of our relationship with space is shaped and re-shaped by our minds, and not always in predictable ways. Mesmerising and haunting, that is how I would describe the aesthetics of Brutalist architecture now, although it hasn’t always been this way. I’ve mentioned before how impactful the relationship between ontology and aesthetics is to me. The way I relate to new landscapes featuring cold concrete, imposing facades, and the towering silhouettes of brutalism often constitutes an uncanny experience. In England, it happened when I gazed at Liverpool Metropolitan Cathedral, when I first walked the path next to the Roger Stevens Building in Leeds, and when I stepped on the grounds of Barbican in London.

The cold rawness of the stark, monolithic, slightly dystopian aesthetic carries echoes of the past seeping into the future, haunting my perception of self and place. It helps if the spaces appear desolate, without disruptions. And the atmosphere of a new place feels slightly more otherworldly when the boundary between Brutalist architecture and nature is blurred. Even better if the structure is abandoned and derelict. Although the haunting quality is already inherent in the eerie architecture of Brutalism. Moreover, for me, since I lived in a brutalist-socialist block – a type of structure that was ubiquitous during childhood, when I encounter a different version of the aesthetic of brutalism, in a new environment, the familiar and the unfamiliar collide.

It’s an uncanny feeling of revisiting a liminal place, the archetypal presence of the homely that is rendered alien, a ghostly intersection of memory and materiality. Being haunted by a double, the self becomes partly ‘other’, being watched by a higher external force whilst existing ‘elsewhere’, until that sense diminishes as the self acclimates to the environment and everything else outside that space actually becomes temporarily otherworldly. Temporary identity and place are interlinked, so whenever I see a new architectural space with Brutalist exterior design, my past selves which visited other Brutalist spaces are having a gathering and collectively pondering how inhabiting such an architectural space both preserves and erodes the past.

Brutalist design…both intimate and vaguely distant, startling and infused with echoes of sci-fi narratives, comforting yet unsettling. Inspiring a homesickness for a place that never actually existed and will probably never materialise, a chimeric shadow world of inner phantoms, a world that borrows elements from the geography of my childhood as well as from tech-noir films. Such experiences have a destabilising effect – surreal, almost. With their ghostly, whispery grey walls, the buildings seem to be living, breathing things, rather than static. There is an undertone of fear and anxiety, mixed with rapture. As we know, the uncanny can also signify a longing for a return to a state of unity, which may be intertwined with a more sinister primal desire, a pull towards inorganic dissolution. Hunting the familiar image of tech-noir dystopia, both living and dead, can symbolise a repetition compulsion.

Whilst exploring and intimately absorbing a Brutalist space, I uncover lost poetry and sensory fragments of my inner world, feeling strangely at home even as I find myself in a place of liminality. When I exit a Brutalist Zone (particularly one that I’ve just seen for the first time), everything else feels temporarily alien, unreal (I say a new one because through repetition, the allure is demystified and diminished). It’s a state of mild spiritual dissociation that makes me feel like I can gain essential knowledge about myself, about consciousness and about the universe, whilst acquiring a sense of distance from myself.

Urban Fragmentation and Decay

Here is a slideshow of photographs that I took a while ago, in two cities where different chapters of my life unfolded. The theme was fragmentation in urban geography. I’m always inspired, affected, infected, impacted by place; there is almost a certain sense of symbiosis that I feel with my surroundings wherever I find myself, which is why my environment is so important to me, sometimes more so than people, and it often dictates how I feel. Of course, there are exceptions, it can also work the other way around, if there are other overpowering aspects in my life that induced a certain feeling or state whilst I existed in a particular space, then the feeling will haunt the place – if that state was depression for instance, then I probably imbued every corner with depression, it would colour my perception, and it might take a long time to no longer associate the geography of the place with the geography of my emotions at that particular time and to be able to return to the physical space without feeling the echoes, if I ever do return. Besides a depressive state, which is alienating in itself, perhaps even worse and more alienating, is the feeling of being trapped. I suppose because in some cases depression can constitute a bridge that invites empathy and connection if it isn’t also accompanied by feeling trapped, whereas very often feeling trapped is like existing within a soul-sucking veil, or indeed a bell jar, that makes you daydream about jumping off a bridge instead. The way I’m influenced by space is not always intuitive. I’ve always liked the aesthetics of fragmentation and decay within a landscape. One of my favourite adventures has always been exploring derelict factories, forsaken asylums, old Gothic mansions, ruins, and cemeteries. They have the opposite of a depressing effect on me.

Self-Portrait

The spiritual (‘spiritual’ in a secular sense) pride sometimes accompanying the feeling of being attuned to the universe and highly perceptive of shifts in energies, angst, desires, signs of discomfort, motivations, attractions, repulsions, projections, insecurities, prejudice, coping mechanisms, vibrations, the multidimensionality of the human experience, and so on when I walk into a room means that when I am – not by choice – in the disposition that I actually have to go through a break from the reality of existence, I find it hard to open up about my inner experiences even a long time afterwards. Granted, that’s also due to the nature of my experiences, the way they unfold, and the type of real-life material they tend to feed on and feed into. It’s that and the fact that, in my darkest yet lucid hours, my worldview tends to become more assertive, particularly when I feel my boundaries are being crossed, which is what is amplified (and internalised) to surreal levels when I’m thrown into the vortex of my ‘other’ self, which is not something I’d like to consciously/actively even indirectly nurture outside of that.

Whenever I’ve tried opening up, things have gone chaotically wrong both interpersonally – as once I add that layer it becomes nearly impossible to know others’ angles, and in my subsequent experience of the breaks, which have gone hopelessly meta and more labyrinthine. Things no longer flow naturally in my interactions. And I put a lot of pressure on myself to rewire my thinking patterns in ways that are beneficial to me, but unfortunately, this has come to mean detachment, which implies automatically being less likely to experience positive emotions as well. I have come to accept that only those with a very similar predisposition and psychological history and configuration in addition to moral compass would ever be able to connect with me in any significant way. Perhaps meeting them will give me a feeling of belonging that I’ve not found anywhere, in any context, in my entire life, if I’m totally honest. I mean among those around whom I’ve actually considered (and entertained the thought that) I might belong, as there are many that I’m happy and proud I could never even remotely relate to. I’ve always been pretty individualistic and self-oriented though.

When I welcomed the possibility of connection, I realised I’m too secular for the spiritual. Too dreamy for the materialistically-inclined. Too pragmatic for the ones who ignore everything worldly. Too realistic and down-to-earth for the self-help community. Too willing to work on myself to be among those with a tendency to neglect and deny all responsibility in a quest for self-preservation. Too pessimistic for the idealistic. Too idealistic for the pessimistic. Too neurotic for the stoic. Too self-contained for the openly and unapologetically neurotic. Too guarded for the emotionally transparent. Too transparency/authenticity-inclined for the ones who repress all ‘negative’ human emotion. This either makes me sound perfectly balanced or dispassionate and insipid. Either way, what I care about is – would I be happy to meet someone ‘like’ me (i.e. alike in significant ways)? Would I be ready? Scared? Threatened due to shadow self denial? Exhilarated? Relieved? Would I even truly see them, and myself in them? I welcome the opportunity to discover, for I usually only feel like I can be myself when I am by myself.

A Brief Journey Through Strangely Familiar Narratives in Contemporary Collage Art

Collage art constitutes a dynamic medium where elements of the familiar are unsettlingly displaced into unfamiliar territories, offering a visceral exploration of the uncanny. Teetering between the comfort of recognition and the chilling thrill of the unexpected, the realm of contemporary collage art opens up a world of paradoxes, where the mundane is rendered extraordinary and the predictable unexpectedly disrupted.

My recent article at the Uncanny Archive, “Strangely Familiar Visual Narratives: An Exploration of the Interplay between Reality and Unreality in Contemporary Collage Art”, highlights the striking, haunting works of some contemporary collage artists who have had a real impact on various social media platforms. The artists weave evocative visual narratives, each standing out with a distinctive approach to the medium by employing their unique artistic vernacular to translate the ethereal, the uncanny, and the nostalgic into tangible, visual experiences.

These contemporary collage artists, albeit divergent in their techniques and thematic focal points, share a predilection for the provocative interplay of reality and unreality, echoing the unsettling familiarity of the uncanny in their otherworldly compositions. With techniques crossing the realms of both digital and analogue – such as utilising archaic photographs, drawings, magazine fragments, and ephemera from antiquated encyclopedias, the digitally impactful artists craft narratives that mesmerise, evoke feeling, stimulate the mind, and spark our curiosity.

Conceptually, they achieve this in various ways, from incorporating familiar objects in strange contexts and vice versa, resurrecting aesthetics and figures from the past which become merged with the present, adding elements from celestial bodies and the untamed natural world as well as layers of subtle commentary, embellishing images with crystals and glitter to promote body image positivity and emotional transparency, and creating an atmosphere that is at times nostalgic, other times ethereal or eerie. Their universe encompasses the Victorians, mythology, religious iconography, silent cinema, French New Wave cinema icons, fashion, pop culture, and more.

DIANA MARIN

CREATIVE WRITER & SOCIAL MEDIA SPECIALIST

Author: Diana Marin