like

There are so many forms of artistic expression.  Some are violent and storming, some planned and executed with craftsmanship, some drawn, sculpted, painted, some raised on a pedestal, some left to collect dust. These are the embodiments of idea, of self, of what has been, of what could be. The shapes that they take are a window into ourselves and the world around us. The shapes that they take have a purpose. Somehow though, the holes in our heads in which we perceive the world are smaller than these shapes. Light shines into our minds in the shape of a cookie cutter triangle and all that we see comes squeezing through it. When it plops down in our minds, the triangle forms a ridge. On one side are things that we like. On the other side are things that we do not like. When a decision is made we slide down one side or the other into the gutter of our choosing. And in either gutter, potential shrivels up at an equal rate.

There is the old question of whether art imitates life or life imitates art. I do not think that either one is true. I think that they bleed into each other, and as the axis of modern life revolves closer and closer to a system of "likes", our little windows become narrower in both worlds.