It is an age where popular culture is attempting to redefine the emotional experience by redefining the permissible range of emotions. Where pop psychology has engaged the cultural norms on the international stage, emotional being is now surfacing as a matter of policy, not humanity. I watch people suffer and bow before the cruelty of a binding principle, instead of being released to the openness of thought and imagination that once philosophy sought to encourage. Instead of free thought, there is only the pressure to conform to a static form of life, sorrowful and stagnant in its attempt to perpetuate a myth. The figure is crowned with a structure, solid and heavy, caging her head and mind, a bondage of thought and construct. Her talons, the natural forms of defence, are turned towards herself, to attack anything within that cannot be allowed, the enforcing factor that is more than choice, it is condemnation.
The simple orbs that pass before her are changed into decorative, complex ideals, artistic inventions that are the attempt to conform to convention. The complications are in the proposed limits of thought and emotion, that which is the individual world of identity.
The butterfly touching her face is the quiet, insistent touch of life, compelling her to be affected by the external, regardless of all the measures that she has taken to disengage from feeling, thinking, anything beyond the constructed range. The touch vibrates through her face, reaching in and under the structure, a gentle and persistent reality that cannot be denied in the constructed perception.
The moment of honesty is found in the discovery that perception does not create the reality, it stands between the self and reality.
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