Φάνητος – Eileithyia at one point, touched you, and I, and all. It was nothing more than to give us  flesh and bones and voices and skin and gaze and touch—nothing more than a sheath to carry what  it seemed to be a thought. What are we if not thoughts? What are we if not the eons of purpose,  fear, courage, desire, and ideas? 

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We don’t – you and I – we are not what a string of hair can tell, we are not a façade. If we are all  facing the same end of this sentence then there’s nothing that distinct you and I – we – and us all.  I, too, like you, had my neurons wired in a way that when I woke up in the morning my eyes, too,  will feel heavy just like you and billions of us. Then does the only thing that create us, is that one  point in our natal crescent? 

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Genesis is not a starting point, we are not emerging from what we thought is an abyss of  nothingness. We are here after the eons of decisions taking place, and I feel suffocated to think it  was only one or two encounters that ended with me and if that disperse I, too, will not exist. 

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If my existence is just a result of a coincidence, and is contingent on the fragility of mortal’s  decision making, and my existence is nothing less or more than other’s – what am I if not the eons  of purpose, fear, courage, desire and ideas? 

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No one was born when Eileithyia touched them, the birth of us is happening now, last week, next  month, another second, another minute – we are all the continuation of genesis. 

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This is my painting and writing when I think about birth. I feel like what makes us human  is our purpose, fear, courage, desire and ideas. I don’t think the moment where we start to  physically exist (referencing Eilethyia the goddess of child labour) can be seen as the only time  we are born. Everytime we attain something new in life, we are not the same person as we were  before. So what are we if not the embodiment of countless genesis? What are we if not a different  version of us taking place in the same mind, and same physical realm? 

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 Birth is a complicated thing, but I think it is worth celebrating change, for that means we  are once again born a different person. This is why my painting is a distortion of one individual  into multiple of it or multiple people forming one identity. Either way, I was trying to capture the  cycle of life, where your identity might form or disperse every now and then. This ability to change  is what makes a human–well– a human.