On Love: Socrates Sculpture Park

Because of the well-documented, highly complex relationship between the world and humankind’s sensation and perception of it, I am of the opinion that even relatively simple messages are often exceptionally hard to convey. As such, any tool used for the communicative purposes of conveying such a feeling or message, should, if deployed successfully, subtly suggest – if not explicitly demand – that the message’s recipient continuously revisit and reinterpret the message. After all, the state of the message’s sender, the message itself, and the recipient are in constant states of flux, changing through a series of feedback loops and relationships with other worldly objects, ideas, and our categorization of both these constructs and the esoteric idea of what it means to have a necessarily human-centric observational bias… as if it could be any other way.

This may be a convoluted way to preface a love poem, but it’s precisely this rich interaction of sender, message, and recipient that underlies my deep attraction to Socrates Sculpture Park.

Deafening, like the

sirens to Odysseus,

you call out my name –

begging, enchanting,

and with each of your whispers,

I feel more drawn in,

until, I’m afraid,

there will be no you and me

as we’re engulfed in time.