61026
When I was a young boy navigating a turbulent, frightening, overwhelming 3D reality, I was fascinated by the peace and beauty and reliable nature of dreams. Early dreams, in particular, are fascinating to me - they are a glimpse into the inner workings of the mind before it is entirely corrupted by social biases, expectations, and rigid concrete thinking.
One of the first dreams I remember having - when I was around six years old - was a peculiar scene of a large bumblebee, broken like an easter egg, and a viscous pink fluid oozing out onto the table. At the time, like most well-behaved six year olds, I had no idea what the inside of a bumblebee looked like. But rather than throw an error or quit the dream outright, my brain took a much more interesting route - it seemed to use the power of prediction to "fill in the blank". And thus, the memorable scene was created. It actively generated a vivid guess as to what might be inside of a bumblebee - and simply stuck with it. I had no say in the matter because "I" was only observing. But it was my dream, right? "I" must have also created the dream around me. But I also didn't choose to believe that bumblebees are filled with pink oozing fluid.
The waking world is not fundamentally different from the dream world. Haven't you ever had a dream that you were so sure was real? And haven't you had "real" experiences that felt just like a dream? They aren't in fact very different at all. The biggest difference between dreams and what we call "reality" is that our "reality" (a continuous generation of sight, sound, touch, smell, and taste that we perceive, distinct from a simple "direct" interpretation of the data we take in - see optical illusions for clarification) is influenced by tangible(?) data (strings, quarks, atoms, protons, neutrons, so on and so forth).
In the waking world, we can observe and measure the tangible data around us, and we come to an agreement on a "shared reality" (though this differs even from person to person, let alone culture to culture). Dreams appear to be much more abstract. When you eat an apple in a dream, where IS that apple? Is it in your mind? Does it exist?
A question follows with stranger implications: What are you using to taste the apple? Are you using your tongue? How can that be? Do you chew it with your teeth? How can you even see the apple in the first place? Do you use your eyes? How can you use any senses at all to "detect" data if not only does the "data" not exist, but the very body you are using in the dream isn't actually there?
In dreams, and perhaps in reality, the body is a continuous projection of your perception of yourself. As far as we know, and especially from a materialist perspective, it is not a physical body. And yet - it functions exactly as one does. You can still use your "eyes", your "ears", your "nose". You can still touch, feel pain, and pleasure - and every sensation in between. And these experiences all point to the only truth I am concerned with as I grow older and older: Our "reality" is but a dream we share. A collective generation of our minds that we interally create and perceive, influenced at all times by the tangible data (which IS really there), but not actually directly perceptible to us.
In a way, the only thing we know for sure is real is our experience. And this truth has always drawn me to art - whether I realized it or not - because art is an experience-first world that prioritizes this truth at all times. We are simply passing through these experiences, and we generate most (if not all) of them as we do. Just like a dream.
To be frank, I'm never exactly sure what to "do" with this information, if anything at all. Sometimes it seems obvious, other times I ask myself what the hell I was thinking. Perhaps I'm not fully enlightened and the notion that something "should" be done is simply an ego-centric itch that I'm not ready to ignore.
Asking questions is in our very nature. We are not static, nor are we designed to remain static. We are here to change, learn, and grow, even when (and perhaps at times especially when) it's hard. This project, for me, is an opportunity to do just that - it is a space where I can demonstrate my continual growth, and hopefully encourage others to grow too.
Because in this world, I am still only human, and this human cares about others. I care about you.
Welcome to my weird little world. I hope we can make it ours.
One of the first dreams I remember having - when I was around six years old - was a peculiar scene of a large bumblebee, broken like an easter egg, and a viscous pink fluid oozing out onto the table. At the time, like most well-behaved six year olds, I had no idea what the inside of a bumblebee looked like. But rather than throw an error or quit the dream outright, my brain took a much more interesting route - it seemed to use the power of prediction to "fill in the blank". And thus, the memorable scene was created. It actively generated a vivid guess as to what might be inside of a bumblebee - and simply stuck with it. I had no say in the matter because "I" was only observing. But it was my dream, right? "I" must have also created the dream around me. But I also didn't choose to believe that bumblebees are filled with pink oozing fluid.
The waking world is not fundamentally different from the dream world. Haven't you ever had a dream that you were so sure was real? And haven't you had "real" experiences that felt just like a dream? They aren't in fact very different at all. The biggest difference between dreams and what we call "reality" is that our "reality" (a continuous generation of sight, sound, touch, smell, and taste that we perceive, distinct from a simple "direct" interpretation of the data we take in - see optical illusions for clarification) is influenced by tangible(?) data (strings, quarks, atoms, protons, neutrons, so on and so forth).
In the waking world, we can observe and measure the tangible data around us, and we come to an agreement on a "shared reality" (though this differs even from person to person, let alone culture to culture). Dreams appear to be much more abstract. When you eat an apple in a dream, where IS that apple? Is it in your mind? Does it exist?
A question follows with stranger implications: What are you using to taste the apple? Are you using your tongue? How can that be? Do you chew it with your teeth? How can you even see the apple in the first place? Do you use your eyes? How can you use any senses at all to "detect" data if not only does the "data" not exist, but the very body you are using in the dream isn't actually there?
In dreams, and perhaps in reality, the body is a continuous projection of your perception of yourself. As far as we know, and especially from a materialist perspective, it is not a physical body. And yet - it functions exactly as one does. You can still use your "eyes", your "ears", your "nose". You can still touch, feel pain, and pleasure - and every sensation in between. And these experiences all point to the only truth I am concerned with as I grow older and older: Our "reality" is but a dream we share. A collective generation of our minds that we interally create and perceive, influenced at all times by the tangible data (which IS really there), but not actually directly perceptible to us.
In a way, the only thing we know for sure is real is our experience. And this truth has always drawn me to art - whether I realized it or not - because art is an experience-first world that prioritizes this truth at all times. We are simply passing through these experiences, and we generate most (if not all) of them as we do. Just like a dream.
To be frank, I'm never exactly sure what to "do" with this information, if anything at all. Sometimes it seems obvious, other times I ask myself what the hell I was thinking. Perhaps I'm not fully enlightened and the notion that something "should" be done is simply an ego-centric itch that I'm not ready to ignore.
Asking questions is in our very nature. We are not static, nor are we designed to remain static. We are here to change, learn, and grow, even when (and perhaps at times especially when) it's hard. This project, for me, is an opportunity to do just that - it is a space where I can demonstrate my continual growth, and hopefully encourage others to grow too.
Because in this world, I am still only human, and this human cares about others. I care about you.
Welcome to my weird little world. I hope we can make it ours.