My partner and I picked our son up from nursery and thought it would be nice to go have our tea (dinner) at the beach and watch the sun set. We arrived at the beach, but it was cold, and the sun was behind the clouds. However, it was trying its best to burst through and give us a glimpse of its warm glow. The contrast of colours was beautiful. As we walked to a bench opposite the water, a concrete sea breaker had ‘Fuck War’ adorned upon its surface.
It was not specific to which war it was referring too, so I presume it was a generalised bout of activism towards the idea of war. It did not make me think about war, nor did it make me think that such a statement was so poignant, that I must stop in my tracks and think about the horrors that war bestows upon humanity and do something about it. I actually thought it ruined the view, and I felt as though the statement was out of place and not very effective as a comment or statement. It ruined the concrete barrier. It was sprayed in a weird yellowish colour and appeared to be a naive romantic gesture as an attempt to impress their peers, with how the injustice within the world, runs through their veins and weighs heavy upon their shoulders. I feel the intention to spray it on the barrier was an attempt at a bold heroic gesture. As though these words had never been uttered within society before. These words were so profound that the seagulls fell from the sky and landed on the beach. There is something beautiful in that gesture I suppose, too. Even though it has unnecessarily ruined a wall in a location that has no war or has zero influence in stopping a war.
I don’t know the person who sprayed it, but I thought about them. and whether their enthusiasm for ‘fucking war’ will stay with them throughout life? Or was it just a rebellious moment using some spray paint they came across. I often find, that when someone experiences life and life reveals itself to them, such bouts of activism fade within the narrative of their own story. Within the western sphere, contemporary activism is done from privileged individuals. It never really seems a genuine quest, but rather a fashion one can attach themselves to as a social badge that gives the impression of caring, when they don’t… but they do care that they are included with the narrative of society. Their voice and opinions are heard. I feel the sprayed statement on the wall is just that. A moment of expression to be heard, to be seen. The statement could have said ‘fuck sausage’ as it would have delivered the same resultful impact. The statement doesn’t really want to ‘fuck war’ but rather a declaration of ‘I exist’.
Within a world that is filled with a constant and infinite barrage of information, opinions, images and voyeurism, it is difficult to truly understand oneself as an individual. To spray such an antagonistic comment within a place of tranquillity is a shout into the void of noise, so much so, that the only way it could be heard is within the tranquillity of the beach and through the gaze of the people who frequent such a space.
With that said, such expressions are important to understand where one exists within the world as it gives an individual a voice, something contemporary society promised with the inclusivity and connectivity of the internet, though failed in a sense due to amalgamation of noise that penetrates the space that is the mind , that in turn, acts as a pain of frosted glass towards the true identity of an individual. The beach, maybe a metaphor, maybe an actual space away from the constant barrage of nonsense that as a society, moulds us into an individual, into a collective. We need to discover who we are away from the noise and without a can of yellow spray paint.
The open wet sand,
Away,
A tussle of waves.
Clambering as the sun fades.
a voice lost
pushing materials upon each other
a temporary kiss
of hopeful permanence.
A voice is.
Fuck love.
Fuck you.
Fuck War.
Fuck everything.
Out with waves
Upon, within,
the voice fades.
The corner of the infinite void
Is where it hides.