Sculpture

In all of our relationships with people we have certain expectations. These expectations are usually not expressed out loud; instead you and the other person come to an agreement subconsciously how you should behave around each other. This is known as Identity negotiation.

Looking at Douglas Harding’s philosophies I had a revelation that our faces are not our true identities. This is because we cannot see our own head and therefore can’t relate to it. Our faces and hands are virtually the same. They can express emotions and communicate the same way our faces do. They are our true identity because they are not distorted by our own perceptions.

Some people do not have strong identities of their own. To make up for this lack of identity they steal those of others. The introduction of such a person to an established group of people can dramatically change the dynamics of the group. This is because they are no longer acting in the way they have previously agreed on. They start to see themselves differently, sometimes in a distorted way. They loose their own identity because their identity has been taken.

You expect people to behave in a certain way because of many things such as their job title, age or the clothes they wear. So if someone were wearing a badge that says ‘predator’ would you expect him or her to take on that role? Similarly if you were wearing a badge that said ‘prey’ how would the two of you interact?

Would you assume the identity of the badge?

• Lost in Time Lost in Space and Meaning by Nikki LeDree

  
  
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• The Thoughtful Contemplative

  
  I am life and I am myself.
  
  Part of a weakness.
  
  Some days I believe myself.
  
  Which day,
  
  Which person,
  
  What I think depends on you.
  
  Which labels others experience.
  
  I am simply personification.
  
  I am the thoughtful contemplative.
  
  Ask me the answer,
  
  I think I am capable.

• The Chair in the Corner

  
  How long had it been? Two days? Three? Buried under cloth. Under sweaty clothes and discarded coats. At least its legs were free. It could stretch them out if it wanted to. It could feel the carpet under its feet. This was all it needed wasn’t it? Freedom and a purpose for being. It couldn’t recall a time when someone sat on it and enjoyed it for what it was. There it sat, alone in the corner gazing out at the other more privileged chairs. Hour’s people would spend sitting on them. The chairs that were so lovingly placed under the table. Never would they be subject to the same treatment as the chair in the corner.
  
  The chair’s bitterness grew, as did its isolation.

Copyright © 2007 Everyone is the Predator • Using Dropshadow theme by Brian Gardner