Dear reader (writer),
Wooden ships and purple berries
What are you here for? Is there something inside you that you hope to see reflected in someone else’s thoughts? Do you hope to find others that divine joy from the same things as you? Wait, what am I here for? Am I sending messages in bottles out, hoping for a reply, hoping to appeal to your sensibilities? Every keystroke a plea, a little salvo over the wall of not knowing, hoping someone might uncork the bottle and read the dusty script, and maybe even relate to it. Is every interaction in life a small-scale version of this? Checking to see what we have in common; what our differences are, so that we might bridge the gap? Birds of a feather, forming thought-flocks as we go along through life, perhaps?
Let’s say for the sake of argument that we never did this. The guy in Wooden Ships might not have asked about the purple berries. Or the other dude might not have shared them. Every creature down to protozoa, meandering through the universe with no outside information about what works and what doesn’t. Granted, maybe that doesn’t exactly equate to a search for joy, but I don’t know, I think the argument could be made that finding a good source of water or some purple berries that aren’t poisonous is an occasion to be celebrated.
At some point a zone of comfortability is reached that no longer necessitates the need for new information from others; we’ve got enough members now in our tribe that we can get what we need to sustain ourselves and sharing could become detrimental to the group. That last bit, that’s the part that eludes me. For a while, the others are assimilated, but eventually there’s a cutoff point. No more. A line in the sand. When do the others become others? When does our information become proprietary?
We know that we have developed and evolved through fear, that the unknown could possibly kill us, so that’s a check in the box for otherism being a survival tool. But ultimately we’re better at sharing, so why the exclusivity and tribalism? We currently sit high atop the food chain (at least when we’re out of the water), so why can’t we fucking share? What’s with the built in hoarding tendencies?
Anyway, that was a bit of a digression… I’m trying to make an argument in support of communal sharing, and we’re on Substack reading each other’s minds (the parts we decide to share, anyway), so I’d like to focus on the positive. For instance, let’s look at what’s at the root of a music recommendation. Why do we share the things we like? Hey, check out this new band I found, this music makes me feel good, and hopefully it will do the same for you! Does it make us feel validated when the answer is yes? Of course it does. Each new person you ‘turn on’ is now part of your tribe of musical sensibility, which you’d like to think you also share with the artists themselves. With art and music however, there’s no line, no hoarding. It’s all sharing, for better or worse. [Insert philosophical argument about art being spiritual here.]
Speaking of the artists, I think that the song or work of art itself is the original version of this, both historically and metaphorically. Art tells a story that (obviously) the artist wants others to hear and see, so that they might relate to its message. Sometimes with music it’s also nonverbal as it is with visual art, and the ‘message’ is a feeling, or some type of inspiration. The artist does not necessarily know who will resonate with the ‘message,’ and so as the (totally tongue-in-cheek) quote goes, When the artist finally finds his audience, it is an added disappointment. Like a game of telephone, though, songs and art inherit mutating interpretations through time and translation, but the same can be said for facts.
If we think of art and music as a signal, this sharing takes on the characteristics of language. When you share, you’re asking if someone speaks the same tongue, or at least dialect, as you. If they don’t, are you hoping to convert them? What would be gained from that? Is it really just the selfish form of validation we get from being acknowledged as correct or cool? I’d venture a guess that it’s more than that. By building a squad of like-minded individuals, we can raise our smoke signal to a higher ridge, possibly reaching more people. Although not an obvious benefit, I see this as directing attention back at the artist, and if they are recognized more, they would hopefully be empowered to create more of what brings us joy. Selfish-Not selfish, I suppose. A rising tide lifts all ships.
Say, can I have some of your purple berries? Yes, I’ve been eating them for six or seven weeks now, haven’t got sick once… Probably keep us both alive.
nice post. I think building tribes and mutual sharing of stuff you dig and stuff you are doing is pretty essential. Though, there is no real goal besides some self-validation and feeling of belonging or understanding. But, these things are important IMO.