In a world where distance evokes authority and sanity, where seclusion whispers prestige, where scarcity suggests luxury and exclusivity, where exteriority means truth, and where privacy is the hallmark of an irreducible ego, intimacy – our carnal entanglement with all things – is the unforgivable sin. The seditious intrusion. That’s why I think that nothing could be more revolutionary than touching ‘oneself’, and feeling the conspiring legion…’the many’ that congeals into ‘the one’, for a time. Nothing could be more dangerous than to know the many, to know that there are no real gaps between things, to know that we are relationships without final edges, to know we all are enraptured in a stunning chorus of becoming, to know that there is no ‘outside’ for which we must strive. To know ‘we’ are not alone.