on material waste and conceptual product: the impulse to sort and the need to feel

to not throw out is to save
to sort is to make sense of
to document is to be accountable for
and then I am saved, I make sense, I am accountable.

but all attempts at comprehensiveness fall flat
and I am not exempt, not above.
The line of autonomy- of my belonging, my trash, my ideas- is guessed at and arbitrarily drawn

I can show you some things I've kept out of the garbage (for now)
and I can show you that I am trying to be thorough
But, rather than fabricate completion, I would rather show you that I am honestly trying
and honestly failing to push through confusion in to clarity
I am stuck here, with you, in that soup.

Earth dismantled in to elements, synthesized in to objects without regard for the need to dismantle them back in to elements digestable by the earth.
research, observations in to the printed word, in to the telephone, on to the internet- the knowledge that is known grows faster than the population. There is too much for any one person to hold in themself as true.
Water down the drain, exhaust out the engine, thoughts out the keyboard, moving too fast to process

life on earth is bound to get more complicated, more tangled. more violent. more toxic. more idiotic. more misunderstood.
Where analytical sense stops short emotion begins.
and so we will either shut ourselves off or feel more overwhelmed, more paniced, more futile, more lonely, more sad
The common denominator is urgency. This is what exists and what we must make grow.