Strange how sometimes all we have about someone
or culture is a photograph, or then all we know about someone is one little
piece of art they’ve done, like a song or a text. When I look at it, I
inevitably try to see their identity and personality through this little source
of their essence.
However, when we look through this access, we
might not instantly realize how limiting it can be. After all, what we see,
read or listen of it might just be one frame of their life.
It’s
just one moment in an entire life made of hundreds or thousands of different
generations they’ve been through.
But then, the more information we have about
this person/culture, the more we see how widespread it is, until a connective
repetition happens, and soon we can find their theme. When we first see the
main venue of their personality we see their zephyrous essence, their life
motive.
