Stories bring us together.
They gave our ancestors a reason to gather around a fire. To talk, listen and share, to build trust and become something larger than themselves.
At first, stories were spoken, passed from one person to another and changing a little with every telling.
Then we began to give them a hope of permanence.
We wrote them down and painted them. We carved and sculpted them. We created idols. Something imagined becomes something physical, something others can see, touch and gather around.
Once we create something, it no longer belongs to its creator.
People bring their own stories to it. They attach their own worries and dreams, their own memories and meanings. They make it their own and new stories grow around the old ones.
If we don’t add to something that outlasts us, were we ever truly here?
MG - 012 - 01
MG - 012 - 02
MG - 012 - 03
MG - 012 - 04
MG - 012 - 05
MG - 012 - 06
MG - 012 - 07
MG - 012 - 08
MG - 012 - 09
