“This is not about what I produce. It is all about what others receive.”
This is the spoken word portion from (probably, most likely) the best thing I’ve ever found on the internet, in Bb 2.0. If you haven’t checked it out yet, you should. There is something so very poignant and resonant about these words, especially the last line: “This is not about what I produce. It is all about what others receive.”
That (not so) simple thought is a source of inspiration for me. It is an idea that has been with me, and a part of how I think about music and art in general, for the past few years in some form or another. And it is a constant source of thoughts and questions. Eventually, I may share these thoughts, questions, and what these words mean to me, but for now, I’ll just share the words themselves…
By Daniel Donahoo (2009)
she closes the lid
and unplugs the device
no bigger than her thumb
from the computer.
My lifes work, she says. But, it isnt her lifes work.
You see, we store information like an Escher painting.
It shouldnt all fit in there. But, it does.
And every day we manage to fit more and more into smaller and smaller spaces until one day
we will be able to fit all the information the world has
everything that everyone knows and believes and dreams
It will all be there. Stored and filed.
Tagged with any keywords you might imagine.
Our hard drives will be thin air.
They will make nanobots look like elephants.
And elephants will be in there too. Tagged. Accessible with search terms
like grey, ivory,
and the largest land dwelling mammal
We will process away at nothing and understand everything.
We will think of a word and the information will slip in, not through our ears or eyes
but straight thorough our skin. Information will breathe in and out of us,
permeate our skin.
Our knowing will be as deep as it is wide.
You see our work here is to learn so much,
to be so full of knowing,
that all there is left to do is unlearn.
Humanity must get to a point where we let go.
We leave the useless ideas and the spent ideologies in the recycle bin.
like an adolescent brain shedding neurons.
like a snake slithering from its old skin.
like an old man who has come to understand so well the point where reality meets the intangible that he is able to decide which breath will be his last. And, he will enjoy that breath more than any that he has taken in his entire life.
And, her lifes work is more than a four meg flash drive.
My lifes work, she says, is the impact that this has.
This is not about what I produce. It is all about what others receive.