What do I actually want versus what have I been taught to want?

This has been the question I’ve been reflecting on this week, as this period pushed me to think about what’s real.

The question started without putting any pressure on myself, almost unconsciously, as most uncomfortable truths do. I was scrolling through my closet, not necessarily looking for something specific, and I saw many of my old garments that I no longer love or wear. I wondered why this change, and it made me realize that there was a time when I couldn’t remember the last time I’d bought something because I genuinely loved it, rather than because it felt right for the moment, the feed, my entourage, or for some unnamed audience I was performing for without realizing it. I was so immature.

That discomfort became Monday’s essay, “A Life Shaped by Trends.” I wanted to explore how the freedom to choose, this thing that we celebrate as the hallmark of modern life, might actually be a carefully crafted image. How brands, influencers, and social trends engineer our preferences so subtly that we mistake their suggestions for our own discoveries. How what we wear, buy, pursue, and even love are often reflections of surrounding trends rather than expressions of who we truly are.

And as I was writing the essay, I realized that my question was still unsolved. If anything, it made it more urgent because I finally started seeing a pattern. And once you see it, once you recognize that most of your “choices” might be or have been inherited rather than chosen, you’re left with another question: How do I find what’s actually mine?

That’s where Thursday’s curation came in, though I didn’t realize the connection until I was already deep into it.

“What Remains” is a gathering of five works that all share one thing: they don’t reveal themselves immediately. They asked for my patience, but not one of understanding, but the patience of presence, which allows meaning to surface on its own without being named or forced. Each of the artworks featured in this curation asked me to return, and to resist the urge to consume and move on.

And that’s when I realized that unconsciously I’d created a conversation between the essay and the curation.

The essay asks: What would you choose if no one weas watching? What’s left when you strip away imposed preferences?

The curation shows: What remains when you stay with something beyond the initial impression? What reveals itself through patient attention rather than instant consumption?

They’re both about subtraction as a path to truth. Whether that’s removing external influences to find authentic choice, or removing urgency to allow deeper meaning to surface.

And yet, there’s an irony here that I’m still reflecting on. The essay critiques our tendency to follow trends and consume quickly, while the curation embodies the antidote: works that can’t be consumed quickly, that actively resist the patterns the essay describes.

But what I’m realizing now, a few days later, as I’m writing these words, is that maybe the answer to “how do I find what’s actually mine” isn’t about making better choices or choosing more carefully. Maybe it’s about learning to stay, and to give things, whether artworks or decisions or even aspects of ourselves, the kind of patient attention that doesn’t force our genuine preferences to surface.

Because the works in “What Remains” didn’t reveal themselves because I analyzed them harder or thought about them more strategically, as I don’t like to do that when it comes to art. They revealed themselves because I kept coming back to them and stayed long enough to notice what doesn’t rush me.

And maybe that’s the real difference between inherited preferences and authentic ones: the former present themselves as already complete, while the latter unfold slowly through time.

I definitely don’t know if that’s the answer, but it’s what I’m thinking about now.

If you want to experience the full essay and spend time with the works in the curation, they’re both on The Hidden I.

But take your time with them. They’re not going anywhere.

Thank you!🌹

Eduard🌹

What do I actually want versus what have I been taught to want?

This has been the question I’ve been reflecting on this week, as this period pushed me to think about what’s real.

The question started without putting any pressure on myself, almost unconsciously, as most uncomfortable truths do. I was scrolling through my closet, not necessarily looking for something specific, and I saw many of my old garments that I no longer love or wear. I wondered why this change, and it made me realize that there was a time when I couldn’t remember the last time I’d bought something because I genuinely loved it, rather than because it felt right for the moment, the feed, my entourage, or for some unnamed audience I was performing for without realizing it. I was so immature.

That discomfort became Monday’s essay, “A Life Shaped by Trends.” I wanted to explore how the freedom to choose, this thing that we celebrate as the hallmark of modern life, might actually be a carefully crafted image. How brands, influencers, and social trends engineer our preferences so subtly that we mistake their suggestions for our own discoveries. How what we wear, buy, pursue, and even love are often reflections of surrounding trends rather than expressions of who we truly are.

And as I was writing the essay, I realized that my question was still unsolved. If anything, it made it more urgent because I finally started seeing a pattern. And once you see it, once you recognize that most of your “choices” might be or have been inherited rather than chosen, you’re left with another question: How do I find what’s actually mine?

That’s where Thursday’s curation came in, though I didn’t realize the connection until I was already deep into it.

“What Remains” is a gathering of five works that all share one thing: they don’t reveal themselves immediately. They asked for my patience, but not one of understanding, but the patience of presence, which allows meaning to surface on its own without being named or forced. Each of the artworks featured in this curation asked me to return, and to resist the urge to consume and move on.

And that’s when I realized that unconsciously I’d created a conversation between the essay and the curation.

The essay asks: What would you choose if no one weas watching? What’s left when you strip away imposed preferences?

The curation shows: What remains when you stay with something beyond the initial impression? What reveals itself through patient attention rather than instant consumption?

They’re both about subtraction as a path to truth. Whether that’s removing external influences to find authentic choice, or removing urgency to allow deeper meaning to surface.

And yet, there’s an irony here that I’m still reflecting on. The essay critiques our tendency to follow trends and consume quickly, while the curation embodies the antidote: works that can’t be consumed quickly, that actively resist the patterns the essay describes.

But what I’m realizing now, a few days later, as I’m writing these words, is that maybe the answer to “how do I find what’s actually mine” isn’t about making better choices or choosing more carefully. Maybe it’s about learning to stay, and to give things, whether artworks or decisions or even aspects of ourselves, the kind of patient attention that doesn’t force our genuine preferences to surface.

Because the works in “What Remains” didn’t reveal themselves because I analyzed them harder or thought about them more strategically, as I don’t like to do that when it comes to art. They revealed themselves because I kept coming back to them and stayed long enough to notice what doesn’t rush me.

And maybe that’s the real difference between inherited preferences and authentic ones: the former present themselves as already complete, while the latter unfold slowly through time.

I definitely don’t know if that’s the answer, but it’s what I’m thinking about now.

If you want to experience the full essay and spend time with the works in the curation, they’re both on The Hidden I.

But take your time with them. They’re not going anywhere.

Thank you!🌹

Eduard🌹