hub world.
( footage from Anderson Gallery, first performance )
It was not as you see it today. What you gaze upon now, those great bastions, were not always. Because the sky, the universe used to be filled with tiny pinpoints, scattered and spread like the seeds of a dandelion.
People believed that each star would encapsulate its own spirit. Global, in a sense, but still particularly intimate. Societies would build their whole ideals off the lines you could draw between them, sailors would use them as wayfaring markers to denote their direction on the seas, and hopeful people on a dark, winter night might look to them and infer a sign they so desperately needed.It was all hearsay, of course. Stars couldn’t actually change fate, or describe your destiny to you. But all this to say, as strongly as their light cast down upon the worlds, so too did the world’s eye respond in kind.
So why did that stop?
When did we stop looking up?
I've always loved second worlds. Whether I was riding around on a Warp Star during City Trial in Kirby Air Ride, or shiny hunting in Pokémon Omega Ruby, this idea of an entirely separate, interactive fictional world that we could interface with was incredibly enthralling. And as I grew up, I fell in love with the concept that video games, especially online ones (and even the internet generally) could have a true history. That events could happen between players, between real people that would forever change the landscape of this digital space.But as I grew, these places changed too. Companies began to homogenize, and the internet began to centralize. The idea of the forum, or message boards, or the blog began to vanish, replaced with the advent of a handful of social media platforms that everyone would gather around, like the world's grand town square. Shining like the sun to bloat out all else...But there is, and always will be, stars out there. Even if the sun blocks them during the day, they're still visible for those who go looking, you know?As a queer, trans, neurodivergent and ace person, I've found a lot of safety and comfort in those distant stars. Both online and in the real world, I've found solidarity and understanding in ways I never thought possible. There were times I felt that I could never be seen as I am, but through my people I've managed to find some footing in this world, somehow.So, BEACON is a love letter to many things. Video games, and the digital spaces I've occupied. (MMOs especially.) People I've spent hours talking to one night only to never see again. Old hookups, unrequited love, and of course, my friends and family...But at its core, I think the most important thing for me is the idea that community will persist. Even as the world tries to make us fearful of our own neighbors, and only becomes more and more polarizing with less and less room for nuance, there are still pockets of the world where love and camaraderie lives on. With love to people's differences. Not in spite of, but because of.