Entry 143

It's always an interesting process for me as I interact with intangibly characterized spectrums. Take intimacy for instance; looking it up produces a multitude of definitions the vast majority of which I unsurprisingly, don't agree with. At least in their entirety anyway. In turn, I looked into my own definition of intimacy and concluded it too was vague.

I think it's important to note that intimacy is not reserved for romantic relationships alone but also friendships, the bond between parents and children, the fleeting communion of strangers at a dinner party or in a taxi or plane, crushes, being deeply moved by art or by historical events, the relationship between reader and writer: in all these that space is vital, even electric; and it often drives the story.

"What happens in the space between us." I find this so striking a phrase! And so it'll further serve as an unofficial and guiding definition of intimacy.

Like looking at the sun, looking directly at the 'creation' that is intimacy seems like dangerous business. In art, as in life, one wishes intimacy were at the very least, seemingly unspoken, unmanipulated, and certainly unforced. I reckon the conditions or rather the qualities of a relationship smeared with intimacy demand reciprocity of trust, emotional closeness and self disclosure between the different parties for only then does the possibility of openly communicating thoughts and feelings with each other become a reality.

Intimacy as a force is rather important for it plays a developmental role in identity formation through the consensual validation of personal worth by providing individuals with the opportunity to feel understood and accepted as they are within the relationship. 

However, contrary to this big misconception, intimacy does not mean Harmony: the intimacy that can seam can rend! It's a known fact that it (intimacy) makes us vulnerable, exposes us to emotional risk and forces us to drop our psychological barriers. I only bring this up to even the sides. The pros were doing the most lol. 

I'll conclude with this. The ubiquity, the cheapness even, of intimacy as a modern ideal; a particularly modern, faux-sincere kitsch intimacy sells everything from talk shows, to pictures on Instagram, to fakebook's endless mined personal information: so glittering to retailers. 

We are continuously willing to buy access to some inner zone or other, to the truth, the inside story, the unretouched photo. And with intimacy the irony is it suggests a possibly sexualized, an almost sacred location of space, a closeness that not just anyone can share nor access. 

 What happens in the space between us?