Friedensreich Hundertwasser’s third skin is our home (see my last two blogs for the first two: epidermis and clothes). Not believing in straight lines – to him they were godless and immoral – his aim was to incorporate the forms of nature in architectural design.
I take from this is to beware the straight lines some insist upon.
‘if we’re not careful, we can join a group that indulges our selfishness, one that pushes us to be callous or shortsighted. To become part of the mob or the insolent bystanders. … once on the path, the culture is difficult to change’*
‘With homework problems, the answer was known. If you couldn’t solve the problem yourself, you could look up the answer in the back of the bool pr ask a smarter student for help.’**
Sometimes more turns out to be less. Then again, we wish we’d taken that opportunity that came along instead of giving into fear. And what about when we just don’t know where to look.
But we’ve made our decisions, drawn our lines, and everything is tidy, though it could be tidier.
Individuals, as well as groups, organisations, parties, industries and businesses argue how it’s hard to survive and function without fixing a few lines in place. They can control the lines they say but, before they know it, the lines are controlling them. Reality is, lines beget more lines, and then it becomes harder to remain open to the possibility of there being more outside of the lines – more ways to see this and that, more people who’ve a contribution to make, more ways to work together rather than being those who know the answer and everybody else just needs to get it – to get in line.
Once static lines are drawn, it’s very hard to remain dynamic.
Life is best when we are working on problems whose answers are not known and we have to connect and work with people who are not like us (and never will be). Few, though, find the path of many questions.
(**From Seth Godin’s blog The Best of Us (The Worst of Us).)
(^From Alan Lightman’s A Sense of the Mysterious.)