Anonymity is a nightmare. We see a face and if it means nothing to us there is a fear that our face means nothing to them. If we drain and empty the faces of enough people we can begin to reflexively think of ourselves in that same way – that our face and our persona have no meaning, no association, no place. To be an alien in one's own community is the nightmare of this age. We travel and see things. We keep in contact with facebook. You're reading this blog. But the knowledge that we're going out to seek and so rarely ever being meaningfully sought is the loss of ourselves and is enough to sap us of our joy.
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The Greyish Crowd
Phnom Penh – March 2013 |
This isn't my experience in Cambodia mind you. I'm gainfully employed and enjoy wonderful and stimulating friendships. It is however a nightmare that I imagine some live in and many more quietly and inarticulately live in fear of. When I first moved to New York I felt a bit this way. The bubbled community of ex-patriots in Cambodia isn't excused but when it comes to seeking out our own, this is the best excuse I can think of. The challenge for me and I suspect others as well is to realize the people around you must never ever be faceless. They are brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers, sons and daughters. Who among these wasn't formed by the same God? It requires courage to be vulnerable enough to see and listen with honesty. Yet the reward is always there. Getting to know a face is perhaps is a sweet nectar for even the faces in the greyish crowd are personas in technicolor.
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The Technicolor Story
Phnom Penh – March 2013 |
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