Amanda Ross-Ho

We are permanently standing at the intersection of Forever and Now,
witness to the moment at which the two liquefy to become one path, only
to separate again. The paths are lined and flowing with every last
thing the perceptual apparatus is equipped to encounter, and it is our
task to interpret each facet, sorting and ushering them along the axis
most fitting of our appraisal. Priority and importance are assigned
here: value is determined, endurance tested—and with each finding,
another contribution is made to the sketch of the grand scheme. We
isolate, identify, and name the elements that occupy these paths,
gaining an intimate understanding of the fragments, and by extension,
the whole. This careful untangling is what constitutes experience.
While it is an external examination, these elements originate from our
interiors, thus it is our own purpose that this organization seeks to
decode. We navigate via a series of judgments, only to eventually
realize that our verdicts are reversible: things that appear to stand
in opposition are actually one and the same, and it becomes evident
that what presents itself Now is unmistakably Forever. 

Our biggest challenge is that of negotiating the
consistently fluctuating matter of the present. It is the hot pursuit
of the moment. This momentum simultaneously contradicts our true
objective: to sustain, if only by miniscule degrees, our immersion in right this minute.
We are inextricably linked to this contradiction, as progress is only
possible through concurrent assertion and negation. With every
acquisition of knowledge our mechanisms of thought become simplified.
Through every emptying we experience the sensation of fullness. It is
by identifying the points of intersection between any opposite that we
locate what is important.

It is the least we can do, to try and understand ourselves. As
an invasive species, we owe it to the universe to try and figure it
out. We grope around the crowded and shadowy space of consciousness in
search of pre-existing, solid forms, which must be found, excavated,
and brought into the light. Once illuminated, these forms shift,
changing shape in their new context, and with every new variation of
light. This mutability makes the pursuit of understanding a slippery
and disorienting process, and the goal of concrete knowledge virtually
impossible. Understanding in and of itself is not a sensation that is
even easy to identify. The one filament of understanding that does not
seem susceptible to this constant fluctuation is of the pursuit of
understanding itself. In a way, this is enough. Yet we still demand
constant explanation from our surroundings and ourselves. We request
the same from those who surround us. One of our most basic demands is
to be understood, which isn’t always an easy task—as it sometimes
involves tuning our external voice to the key of someone, or something,
else. But in the interest of maintaining a connection to the outside
world, risking the dangers of losing our grip on the things that make
up our individuality, we try.    

The process of understanding and therefore knowing something is that which involves equal parts internalizing the external and externalizing the internal. We unpack
or empty things in order to really get them, meaning, we unload and
examine each individual element, become familiar and intimate with
every component, and then, when we have had enough, put them back, only
to empty them again.