We live in a truth-imperiled world. We live dependent on our cell phones, staring down the screen more hours than we can count, we live among among fakers and relativists, liars and cheats. We live afraid that the truth could be anything, or will remain forever outside our reach, or that it will carry forward, endlessly unspoken. So, in this world, where is the truth? To me, it lives within us, in art.
Here’s the thing: Truth is elusive. Truths are incomplete, permeated, twisted, more than the facts themselves, but reliant, at least in part, on the facts. Still, we all crave it. And here’s the interesting thing: We are so very close to the truth when we admit how nearly impossible the truth so often is. My hope for us all is that truth will help us galvanize toward one pure and pure-hearted research. Making us feel alive, leading us toward the self-forgiving act of locating the essence that lives between all the facts you cannot find.