On a column of clouds rested the human’s throne, but the mistaken belief that she held grew too heavy for the air and shattered reality. Until the human fell from the clouds also — and crashed on the world.
Still dizzy, she rises and staggers, walks away from where she landed, from the center, and sees that all that surrounds her bursts into life. Suddenly she notices that all that she took to be lifeless has blood to blush with. Now she sees all things anew: all things living, all things sacred — but does it lie within her ability to also deserve the heaven on earth, after a fall from the clouds? To wrestle with the waves and keep her head above the water?
The human has fallen down from where she stood, the anthropocene an apocalyptical reality. But does this end-time not entail the promise of a new heaven and a new earth? This year DRIFT finds its bearings in all that the post-anthropocene makes possible. It sees ontological symmetry, sees vital matter, sees sanctity in nature, and wonders: for whom are these words meant: See, I make all things anew?