welcome to issue 001 of where we are, a newsletter where i’ll be exploring the intersections of nature and the digital through images and writing. these letters will certainly evolve as i continue to work through my thoughts and ideas, and i hope you’ll stick along and even send me your own thoughts—i’d love to hear what you have to say and certainly welcome new perspectives to broaden my own.
i’m currently spending the summer in North Georgia, just south of the Appalachian Trail, surrounded by greenery, mountains, water, and all the little bugs and creatures that come with it. being surrounded by nature 24/7 is so separate from my usual life in Atlanta or New Haven, and has brought me to reflect on the lives we, as humans, have created for ourselves. it’s hard not to think of nature as home in some biological way, even as i grow frustrated with the slow wifi speeds and limited cell service that come with rural life.
it's easy to see sentiments of the 60s counter-cultural “back to the land” movements in society today, especially among millennials and gen-z. we seem to be yearning for a “simpler time,” when life was slower and we depended more on nature and our physical bodies and less on constant digital connection. with the fraught state of international politics and the seemingly constant barrage of human rights violations, staying connected and attentive—and even alive—in our current times is exhausting, stressful, and for those who find themselves targets of physical and emotional violence, traumatic. there may never have been a time when society looked quite how we imagine in these nostalgia-tinted, utopian-commune dreams that so many of us seem to be having, but we certainly are yearning for a more introspective, active life—one that's filled with creation rather than consumption.
most of us won’t end up living a fully disconnected life off the land or trading in our smartphones for flip phones, but we tap into this nostalgia in easier, less drastic ways. there’s been a resurgence of interest in the early technology of the 20th century, especially the 90s and 2000s. from disposable cameras to handmade zines and even small pockets of “Web 1.0” revival. we seem to be pulling in aesthetics of earlier times--ones that are highly symbolic of our collective digital anxieties--and inserting them into our digitally-driven lives in a way that somehow feels entirely natural. this may not be subversive--it's highly profitable--but it seems to soothe us, if only for a little while.
this all brings me to wonder how we got here and why. recently i’ve been ruminating on the idea of “human progress”: what does it mean, how is it defined, and does it really exist in the way we often conceptualize it? there is never just one path forward, and unless you believe in a universal fate of some kind, who’s to say we’re heading in the right direction at any given time? if anything, where we are now is more a product of the process that brought us here than a midpoint of any historical arc. we may make strides against the specific injustices plaguing our past and present, but are we ever creating a more open life? what i'm trying to ask here is are we choosing the path that opens up a world in which new injustices and frameworks of power and control won't take hold? as we fight our own fights, are we ever shaping a world where these battles won't be necessary? can we really know? i feel naive asking these questions, as if i'm asking for a utopia. maybe i am. but i'd like to think the totality of human existence doesn't have to be summed up as a series of unending struggles to live freely. (i suppose defining freedom could be an entire newsletter series of its own, so i won't go further here just yet.)
i’m drawn to the optimistic utopianism of the early Internet and world wide web—the idea that it could become a haven for ‘the people’ via mass communication and provide open and accessible spaces for anyone to create and share their ideas. in many ways, those early notions still exist on the modern internet, but, as with any new space or form, much of it has been co-opted and reshaped by corporations and traditional institutions of power. as new digital and political landscapes arise, the same forms of power adapt themselves to fit new shapes, and these forms are often more hidden and insidious than before. even as victories are won in civil and human rights, the same foundational power structures remain in different forms. so where are we going?
i feel myself trying to force this all through a sieve, on the other side of which a neat thesis and worked-through essay emerge, but that isn't what i want to share here. i'm writing these letters not to preach or argue or tell, but to think and primarily, to explore. so i'll leave you all with one last image and a quick goodbye.
all my best,
lily