The One

I often find myself thinking how profoundly odd humans are (frequently forgetting that I am one myself, although I’d be the first to admit I’m at least as odd as the rest). In form and material, we are more similar than different: small ambulant trees of bone, wrapped in flesh and bloated with fluids, sprouting hairs of varying hue and measure. I think most humans would agree, though, that we are, in essence, much more than our substance. Heart (in the non-material sense), mind, and soul are all things that humans hold dear, and generally view as integral to the state of being human, without having anything but speculative ideas about what these things actually are.

Granted, after hundreds of thousands of years of evolution of the human species, and a few millenia of concerted inquiry, these speculations have attained great heights of compelling elegance and seemingly authoritative complexity - and have provided their fair share of stunning insights - but the results are still inconclusive, if not wildly contradictory. Why we have such a burning desire to “know” the “truth” of our ultimate nature, without having any sure means to do so, is perhaps the greatest mystery of all…

So: here we all are, trying to get along and endure for our given time in the face of endemic uncertainty regarding our nature (quatum physics would point out that uncertainty is fundamental to existence - but then no one actually understands quantum physics, all they know is that it “works”), in a world that appears more and more chaotic by the day. Perhaps that’s one of the few things about which we can be certain: we are not (presently) equipped to grasp all the myriad factors - sublime and ridiculous, purposeless and deliberate, intense and innocuous, hostile and loving and just plain indifferent - that have a bearing on every waking or unconscious second of our existence.

I state without equivocation that I am as unfathomable to myself as I may be to you (if you have any leads, please, let me know). I wander through the world in a state of perpetual perplexity, punctuated by moments of absolute gloom and, often enough, alleviated by instances pure and indescribable joy. Sometimes that joy is evoked by the “natural world” (from which we seem determined to consider ourselves separate), sometimes by nothing (apparent) at all and, on occasion and to best effect, it is inspired by: other humans.

Which is where this little picture book comes from - other humans; specifically, certain folk I spent the night of Saturday the 11th of September 2004 with (in mind, body, and/or spirit) and am to this day honoured to be able to call “friends.” Humans I have lived with, dined with, conversed with, danced with, slept with, done all of the above with… Humans that I love (each and every one).

Emmy-Maie Davey 2005