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Graham Wood

Love - A Graham Wood Digital Print

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Size

A1 or A2 digital print on 240gsm watercolour paper.

Love
Grey winter cold morning light,
a shroud of unknowing. An emptiness.
 
This winnowing down to a crux,
a crisis of overshadows,
any sense of meaning muted.
When there are slogans,
choice is no longer a matter of understanding but of blind faith,
repeatedly confirming the worst bias,
base fears:
exhortations not to stand for,
but against. What have they done to us?
Pick a side. That’s all,
Pick a side, over and over. I resent…
Pick a side & never waver, no,
more than that,
far more:
no matter what.
Grey cold light.
 
I abhor the position I’ve been put in. And I abhor the people who have put me in this position. It might be naivety, or arrogance, or stupidity, or even blind luck, but I’ve never had the sense that I don’t have a choice. That I can’t make a decision that (though I could be wrong) I don’t make out of things I’ve experienced, and understand (to a point), and the somewhat blurry sense of what’s right that I’ve collaged together through the years.
 
A golden rule,
a fundamental –
do no harm.
I can’t say it’s always worked.
not even close.
 
But I’ve always felt I can
bring to bear this idea
whenever I need.
 
Not now.
 
I feel I’ve been forced into choosing the least worst. Into attempting to understand what the least worst is. Into not just compromising – even in bringing a sense of a golden rule to bear, compromise is mostly the way – but acquiescing to a fait accompli.
 
I don’t adhere to that notion of “they said”, or “they told us”, or any kind of victimhood when it comes to making a decision, particularly in terms of a vote. There’s a clarity of responsibility here that I take on fully and freely, to examine and interrogate information so that I can weigh the options and make my choice.
 
I’m not talking here about personal crisis – there’s a difference. Or at least, I didn’t until this moment, think I was talking about personal crisis. But it seems to me that the crisis in politics has become, more now than ever in my life, a personal crisis.
 
A societal personal crisis.
 
I think this has happened
because there is no love.
 
I don’t see love in their eyes.
 
I don’t hear love in their words.
 
No love in their ideas,
their policies.
 
Not just a lack of love – an excision.
 
A removal.
 
Love is being stolen from us.
 
Leached away, slogan by slogan,
lie by lie, over years.
 
We, the people,
have been backed into a corner.
 
All of us.
 
And the only way out is to love.
 
We must wage love on our world.
In every moment,
every word,
every action,
to declare unequivocal,
undying,
infinite love.
To reclaim love,
give love meaning,
to value love as the highest aspiration,
defining the human condition.
 
To fight by making love the only answer.