Accommodare ad Hominem
What makes us unique? In my research, I discovered that there is no single trait that belongs exclusively to us. As much as we may wish to view ourselves as the pinnacle of evolution, there is always another animal somewhere on Earth exhibiting the same characteristics—albeit often to a lesser degree. These traits can range from self-awareness and empathy to war, culture, and beyond.
Type: Research, illustrations
But, if we are not entirely unique, then what truly defines the human race? In my view, it is our adaptability. Our ability to not only adapt to an environment but also to control it. This creates a symbiotic relationship with the environment in which we exist. We are shaped by it, yet, in turn, we shape it through our very presence.
When we consider this fact in modern times, it becomes evident that our manipulation of the environment has left a lasting imprint. We realize that we can no longer move forward in this way and desire to return to our roots, to reconnect with nature. However, the relentless pursuit of that connection is an illusion we impose on ourselves.
We all yearn for that small cabin on the moor, for life on a farm, living self-sufficiently. A simpler existence where we can appreciate the small things in a world that grows increasingly complex and reliant on others. But as soon as we take those first steps toward this life, we quickly discover it’s not as fulfilling as we imagined. The strawberries on the windowsill that fail to grow, the unsprayed lettuce devoured by snails. We no longer understand or truly know the natural world.
We find ourselves trapped in a romantic cycle of repelling and yearning to return to nature. This is because we are inextricably linked to it. After all, we are part of nature, and although we convince ourselves that we are above these biological instincts and rational thinking, this too is an illusion we have created for ourselves.
We have a deep-seated desire to anthropomorphize nature, to assign emotions and personality to it, and to see it as a living entity—Mother Nature. This concept is so ingrained in us that it even permeates our language, with "THE nature" (DE natuur). But nature simply is. We long to restore it to its original state, but when, exactly, was that? Every species eventually goes extinct, whether due to our actions or not. Nature continues to exist, regardless of our efforts to destroy it, but the real question is in what form it will persist—and whether that form is suitable for our species.
Am I then exempt from this romanticized thinking? Can I puncture the rose-colored cloud? Of course not. Even in my cynical reflections while writing this, it’s impossible not to romanticize. I confess, I too long for that cottage on the hill.
In the project Accommodare ad Hominem, I explore this idea by connecting nature with my body. I create bodily interventions where I use my body as a host for nature. I embrace my romantic thinking and push it to its extreme, to a kind of tragicomedic desire. Not only the objects, but the process itself is part of the whole. Throughout this process, I often encounter beautiful moments that highlight how deeply I am embedded in my own way of thinking.