Less is more…

Tension in the clash of opposites resolves in reality because when more is less and less is more, the picture is complete. This might sound nonsensical, but wholeness can never be but a function of all dimensions, which in turn, for it to be whole, becomes void.

• How do we recognize truth in paradoxical rhythms?
• Is the validation required?
• How does it change our experience?

— Dissonance. #recognize

I was missing a soft box for the key light, so as not to draw strong shadows on my face. My cousin came to the rescue with one he had used for his photography setup, yet it was too heavy for my lightweight stands, so on a haphazard setup of poles, it was kept at bay from falling.

From this makeshift setup, I looked through the teleprompter into a PTZ 4 K camera that stood witness to multiple calls with various degrees of tension.

It came to see me against a full room of executives while I was the only one remote in one instance, to a single one-on-one call across continents and time zones, defining my whole personal brand, to a candid conversation that took turns onto layers of social connections across cultures and digital/in-person spaces.

For two of those calls, the high definition of the camera was looking onto a fellow with a beard heating up in his chair as the imbalance of the conversation he was having was swaying in a direction he couldn’t control and he definitely didn’t enjoy whilst the weather was an extremely pleasant 24 Celsius with a Mediterranean breeze as a treat.

A beautiful atmosphere that the man in glasses with no reflection from his 3-point camera setup couldn’t be immersed in. Instead, they seemed completely dismissive with flushed red cheeks from heartbeats, even though not heard yet could be observed.

The camera turned its head down to turn off while the fellow it witnessed was left to his tormentors, staying with him long after the calls had finished.

The connections we seek fail sometimes to hold a connection, no matter the effort, intention, or preparation we put into them. They take a life of their own, and we are none but observers, no less in power than a high-definition 4k camera that can rotate its head.

— The Visitor. #understand

His reflections mirrored what the camera witnessed and validated them. Nothing new was observed, which in some way was a relief, yet no less frustrating because it wasn’t all flowery feelings that evoke positivity.

I knew I was being observed during that conversation not only by the camera and who was sitting behind it, but an additional spectator with his own reactions that I felt but didn’t see throughout the conversation.

It is quite a unique dilemma when our brain knows it has a critic, a judge, or an opinion coming, even when it is from a trusted source. The conditioning from the reckoning to come makes it even more difficult to escape unscathed, as the vulnerability demands to be naked in private while it never is.

Which indeed begs the question if our behavior is shaped by our observers rather than by our innate drivers mirroring reflections of their self against ours to shape them.

And on the way, tell us something about our resistance pushing against our acceptance of tension manifesting in connection to something rather than the self-proclaimed independence and self-proclamation that promises control and agency.

— The Imposter. #accept

They made themselves seen in one of the most candid conversations that happened in front of that camera. One that would start with calls for coffee early every morning in my hometown, as if a moment could be missed from the social sphere if it didn’t happen.

As if every connection demands immediate presence contrasted on the backdrop of a scheduled coffee meeting, mark the calendar like distant islands in a sea of productive solitude back in Washington D.C.. There, connection required intention, each meeting carved out of busy lives like precious stones from unyielding rock.

The imposter mused at the attempts of connection in such disparate notions, where one lands in overwhelm, and the other needs to be sought. As if the bridge is broken, and we are to mend it to survive.

You, too, know the impostor even though you can never name it. You have felt their agony and treacherous dance. And what seems unlikely in all of this is that it can now more easily manifest and throw at you all of this uncertainty in the form of humanified technology called AI. One which simply observes like the camera, analyzes like the witness, and projects its ailments like the imposter, while being none of that.

I disassembled the room and left in a suitcase all of this world carried to a new destination where I will find myself in another room building up more to strip down all distractions to streamline an authenticity witnessed and in it all I might find myself either fulfilled or incomplete yet may that be what I know for sure is that the tension will keep me on my toes with the hope that the paradox will not disappear but stay true.

Until next time,
Carlo