Lost Highway, Lynch, 1997
Few things are more fulfilling than coming to recognize tangible elements as very “you” (specially in my own particular case for I guess I'm part of a complex, changeable and never-ending construction). Recurrently such acknowledgment is tethered to a superficial aesthetic — a color, a scent, a piece of clothing. Hence, even more satisfying is when someone else can suddenly identify that you-ness within interwoven parts of images, texts, poems, songs, films, drawings, spaces... Lately, friends keep sending me those elements, randomly caught on the web and perceived by them as 'M-like' things.
Even though my choices are always lured by pure intuition and ain't necessarily very coherent, I reckon what we all look for, in our daily research for tangible (or not so tangible) elements, is some sense of depth - truth, honestly, substance - that can potentially be underpinned by means of our personal and non-comprehensible sense of taste. I equally appreciate acknowledging that same feeling applied to my perception of others, for it goes far beyond understanding what they do, how they dress or what they look like.
Somehow I realize that intuition, taste and knowledge increasingly become extensions of our own identity, unveiling what we are to ourselves and to others, simultaneously.
