Proof Of Life

Throughout the history of the times of mankind there is proof of life. This morning, before brewing my coffee, I contemplated life before the advent of cameras. I came to the conclusion that we humans are compelled to draw, sculpt, paint, mold or photograph ourselves. Not only has it become a thriving ritual, but necessary to us as well. Why do you suppose this is? Of course it’s a way to record events, but I think it goes deeper. It marks territories and moments captured in retrospect. We are instinctively leaving proof of life, because one day we shan’t be here, and it seems we are driven to leave evidence that we were here.

My question for us to ponder today is this:  How could we prove to future generations what or how we appeared, were there no way for us to do it artistically? I’m not speaking about documents, writings, recordings. How might we let them see us at all? What would be our proof of life? And lastly, how important is it to us to document our lives for the allotted time we’ve been given?

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