Prologue

Bodies can be many things.

They can be born broken, or not born at all. They can be as large as the Gulf of Mexico, as microscopic as tardigrades - they can measure up to 100,000 light-years across, and can be measured, also, by pounds, kilograms, inches and lumens. They can be quantified by the number of words - those number of words further still quantifying bodies of books, those books quantifying volumes, those volumes quantifying collections, and so on…

Bodies can be tangible like bouquets or the delightful texture of an exotic animal’s skin; they can be intangible, like wishes made on weeds, your first read of a classical poem, the rise and fall of the ever-fleeting stock market. They can be living (like you and I), or dead (a moment of silence). They can remain alive through legacy: the core memory of a favorite children’s book; or deny death through belief: a saint’s toe kept on five-hundred year-old velvet in an aging cathedral.

Bodies can be proportional like nautili, or Michelangelo’s David - they can be incomplete like Abū al-Hawl, or James Hunter. They can be light: a newborn resting on their mother’s chest, feeling her heart for the first time skin-to-skin - and they can be immensely heavy: the weight of Little Boy falling from 31,060 feet towards Hiroshima.

Bodies can be grotesque like Giger, or angelic like Mohrbacher - sometimes, they can be a mix of both. They can be incomprehensible like Lovecraft, or they can be beautifully curved like the silhouette of a cello or violin. They can rage like Sol or Darvaza - and they can be submerged underwater and unknown, unreal or forgotten, like Atlantis.

A body can be many things; but this body is for you to consider: critically, mercifully, or even not at all. Everything on this website is part of a body of work I began in the mid-2000’s, which continues to slowly grow and accumulate new appendages each week - some revisited, some new, some vestigial, some for decorative purposes only. And as all growing bodies are prone to - there are notable growing pains - at times bloody, occasionally revelatory. Perhaps banally innocent, or even quietly perverse. Or, at least, that’s what they were intended to be.

I have considered putting this blog (or one like it) together for years. My way of sense-making out loud, a means of quantifying time through a loosely-cobbled kaleidoscope of my sometimes insane brain - a geological record exhibiting horizons of experimenting and exploring, sex and cigarettes, rebellion and realization.

A body can fall from an ice shelf, splitting the surrounding sea - revealing only 10% of its true form. Which is to say: not all of my work is here - the meniscus of salt water, my editing and visceral embarrassment - saving you from the cringiest parts of my teens and 20’s.

So, why “in consideration?”

The title and premise of this blog shuddered into being when I penned this poem in early 2024, but the structural idea is undoubtedly inspired by a few books I’ve read over the course of a decade. After reading Murakami, VanderMeer, Wilson, Kagge, McFarlane, Scales, Labatut and Gemmell, but Popova’s Figuring especially, I realized (perhaps embarrassingly late) that literature could be a lot of things... but it could also be a mash-up of those many things, still. These authors and their works helped me to reframe how I thought about my own work in relation to my experiences, the experiences of others, the known and unknown world, and the universe.

I started reading Popova in 2020 and began to take more time to ponder how we are all connected in a spiderweb of memories, legacies, secrets and confessions, not unlike the cosmic web. I spiraled accordingly - looking up words like sonder, like saudade, like sobremesa. I excavated emotions that allowed me to connect to strangers through our shared humanity in ways traditionally left to the aftermath of art, jet-lag, insomnia, tragedies and COVID shutdowns. Through Popova’s novel invitation, bolstered by therapy, by mindfulness, by museums, I began the true act of considering.

Which isn’t to say I’ve figured out much, or that I expect my work will provide anyone with any “aha” moments… on the contrary: my goal is to convey to you my own “a-HA!” moments. These pieces consider just a few facets of our shared human experience - and if you enjoy at least one of them, and perhaps hate another: that’s fulfilling enough for me.

But if I fail: if none of my work moves you, puzzles you, surprises you, impresses you or damns you - if I elicit no response, if you leave as you came, then so it goes. After all, as I’ve been slowly learning: a body can also just be.

A body can be many things.

Regarding your opinion of this one: I hope it is more positive than negative, more warm than cold, more cardinal than fixed. And I hope the same for your own body - of life, of experiences, of health, of wealth. Because, as we’ve now considered at length, bodies exist on a spectrum; and when we feel, engage, play, ponder and consider these ranges in their entireties, not only our bodies, but our minds, hearts and souls tend to feel more whole, too.

Thank you for reading and being here.

in consideration of: You, and Me.

Alahnna Alvarado, September 2024