When things are undefined, we seek for definition. When things are uncertain, we seek for certainty. Man is made such that we are restless until we take hold of something real and tangible. However, before achieving certainty, we find ourselves led to where things are undefined, uncertain, and open to a lot of interpretations. We find comfort in the things defined, yet we reach a point when it becomes suffocating. And that’s the point we hope for a less rigid definition; a point where we hope we could define things the way we want them to be.
Where is comfort? Is it in things that are certain and well defined? Or is it in the little spaces of undefined referential?
In the course of our search for where there is comfort, we, finally or hopefully, arrive at the truest abstract. It is in this abstract that we find, not comfort, but truth. What matters, after all, is not where there is comfort, but where there is freedom.
To be truly human is not to live a life of comfort, but to live a life of freedom — unconstrained by ordinary difficulties, never imprisoned by selfish desires, never held back by petty concerns.
photo from: http://www.flickr.com/photos/86578328@N00/173149244