Contact

Precisely above our heads, upon the ceiling, where the ancient figures converge, two index fingers reach toward one another. Yet according to certain interpretations, it is believed that the human finger in question shows little desire to establish direct contact with its counterpart. Perhaps that hesitation is justified—a reflection of the Renaissance vision of the creator of this immortal work. Perhaps, in his eyes, mingling with that which is hollow is meaningless. I do not know. But from my own perspective, as one left awestruck by his boundless art, perhaps it is precisely the absence of this spiritual communion between humanity and whatever lies beyond the human that renders everything meaningless. For centuries, we sacrificed ourselves to our overwhelming desire to break free from the subjugation of the God, while the savage spirit of Cain had already taken root within us. And yet, after the blades of the guillotine descended without end, we found ourselves searching through the rubbish for our lost God. The purpose of establishing this page is to create a passage—however narrow and dark—through the concrete walls surrounding us; a passage through which we may remain connected and keep alive that singular, increasingly vanishing experience: human connection.