The modern, capitalist west is a thin world. It is endlessly complex, vibrant, and intense, but it is thin, like a plate of tempered glass—shimmering, blue, ultra-refined, yet insubstantial.
Every now and then I catch hints of a thicker world. Sometimes I can even—for a moment—imagine what it must feel like to live in it. It is not an either/or proposition—one does not choose between the two. Rather, the thick world is the one that stands on either side of the tempered glass window; it extends infinitely in all directions, and is of much more varied and richer substance. What it lacks in refinement it repays in meaning.
It is my goal to see beyond the thin world and to ultimately inhabit the thick one as well, without losing sight of either.