*“Conclusions” (About hope, growth and the future)
*For the conclusions, I’d paradoxically like to treat them as a kind of introduction. This may be the 8th introclusion I’ve written for this project. Each time I attempt one, I get warped into a circular drift; fitting for the circular nature of this exercise, ‘ending’ with a ‘beginning’, not ‘ending’ but progressing by opening up new entrances to new places. The amount of introclusions I’ve done make evident the ambitious spiral-like, winding nature of this project, as well as its titillating fragility and fertile capacity to collapse and regrow. As I state in the introduction to the project, Affective Vessels was intended as theory seen through the lens of science fiction; an approach I found I had unknowingly borrowed from Karen Barad and Gilles Deleuze who stated that theory and philosophy, respectively, should be treated as a kind of science fiction, where one weaves together strange and awkward sentimental narratives regarding the world through sentience, openness and curiosity. This makes a fortified case for the legitimacy of empirical data, used not as a sole source of information to then lead to certitude, ratification and then reification, but as a refined set of sensors and affective fibers that one has been casting out for their entire life, catching little diaphanous pieces of notions of possibilities, and finally arrives to a place of maturity and connectivity where the data collected begins to suggest a framework; a mosaic. In my case, the framework is theory; strange, poetic theory that is never trivial or banal because of its empirical and experiential nature, but is, humbly, infused with a fresh set of observational configurations. Thus, Affective Vessels as an exercise becomes an urge for the production of everyday theory, for the fervent confabulation between a series of entities that have historically been undermined and discriminated against, for a dialectical, relational and affective dynamic between our human senses and the senses of the myriad of subjects in the Sensual World. As Björk sagely adds: “all that matters is who is open-chested and who has coagulated, who can share…”[76].
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*Several references are made to the Sensual World in the essays; a title borrowed from the 1989 album by the British composer Kate Bush. It is a title that so sumptuously describes how full of stuff the world is, how full of stuff all of us things are, and how sensually we engage with one another. From this, I sustain that the vessel, as a physical structure and concept, is one of the commonalities that all biological, solid, mineral, liquid and gaseous lifeforms share; we are all constantly containing and carrying things, from gravity down to elementary particles, from airplanes to clays pots, from force carriers to electricity wires. This phenomenon helps the world do its proverbial ‘spin’, helps the elementary particles do their proverbial ‘tango’, helps us all trudge along in the gelatin of potentiality; a constant change-towards. To carry something implies an in-between journey, an exchange, a dialogue. Sound is a listener’s perception of air molecules travelling toward them that are in a state of vibration; we and the air molecules are mutually affecting one another. Naturally, this dialogue is not limited to verbal communication by any means. It is an overwhelmingly comprehensive structure of causality by which everything is affected because of a frictional happenstance between things; a dialogue is an elemental rub, an affective concatenation, a fractalating infinity mirror. Thus enter the concept of affect. 
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*In addition to vessels, I sustain all subjects are affective. I’d like to set aside the psychological definition of affect and really focus on the root of the word itself. Ad-facere, ‘to do towards’, is the Latin blueprint for the verb ‘affect’. As I intend to illustrate in the written and visual content of the project, there are constant emittances oscillating to and fro, up and around, through and under all participants and members of the Sensual World. Whether it be subtle, minuscule, chemical, subatomic, elementary, casual, visual, mystical, esoteric; things affect other things. The fact that things are where they are, where they’ve been, how they’ve been used or are being used and what they’re made of, all affect things in profoundly rhizomatic ways. Things, objects, bodies with organs, liquids, rocks are vulnerable, subject to mutation, malleable, becoming and changing —in many cases imperceptibly— right before our very eyes. And very obviously, we are affected unequivocally by the fundamental forces of gravity and electromagnetism that propel these internal, external and mesoternal shifts. Causality describes a relational framework in which everything is a product of cause and effect but has historically been marred by an “[editing] out a quintessential element of mystery” as Timothy Morton quips[77]. “It seems elementary that a theory of causality should put “understanding” in the place of mystery. Causality theories are preoccupied with explaining things away, with demystification. A theory of cause and effect shows you how the magic trick is done. But what if something crucial about causality resided at the level of the magic trick itself”[78]? The mystery is not even debunked, but ignored. To reduce is to ignore the inherent mystery of the in-between.
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*Morton instead vies for a causality that is “wholly an aesthetic phenomenon. Aesthetic events are not limited to interactions between humans or between humans and painted canvases or between humans and sentences in dramas. They happen when a saw bites into a fresh piece of plywood. They happen when a worm oozes out of some wet soil. They happen when a massive object emits gravity waves…The aesthetic dimension is the causal dimension”[79]. This frictional exchange is the unifying relational phenomenon that everything does (actively) and shares in. This again challenges violent notions of inanimacy, passivity, uselessness, functionality, normativity, reductionism and other pinholed visions of complexities that I have attempted to disarm in my writings. Cause and effect just can’t be paired down to active and passive, giving and receiving. A body just can’t be reduced to its sex, female or male, and thus be expected to act normatively. Similarly, a body just cannot be graphed in terms of race, black or white, asian or middle eastern, and thus be expected to act and be accordingly. An object just can’t be simplified in terms of its functionality, it works or doesn’t work, or any surface value qualities. The environment just can’t just be considered in terms of what it can or can’t do for humanity. Notice the roaring violence wielded against these subjects, their roots in reductionism and their brutal discriminatory consequences all in the name of binary, dichotomous taxonomic classifications and dynamics. Like I’ve tried to emphasize, racism, the environmental crisis, transphobia, xenophobia, accusations of inanimacy share the same toxic core. Affective Vessels is a call for the unification of phenomena, connecting our common strata of plights, pleas, desires, idiosyncrasies, quirks, dynamics, structures, potentials, possibilities; the grande simile, the harmonious capacity to carry, the echoing Becoming, the plasticity and openness to be affected, the never-ceasing rin
*g of the poetic, the magic within all subjects. 
*To continue with this thread, the theoretical objectives of Affective Vessels are precisely those: to trace this generous line of commonalities through all subjects, understanding subjects as agential entities, be they biological life, objectual life, liquid life, mineral life and gaseous life; all of the participants in and members of the Sensual World; things that call upon and are subject to the same natural forces such as electromagnetism, friction and gravity and the same spheres (common and unifying abstract conceptual or material atmospheres) such as potentiality, possibility, affectivity, processuality, transmutation, fiction, magic and dreams. (I suppose repeat these sentiments often in my writing because of a personal fear of not explaining myself well. Though every time I do so, my objectives edge closer to growing into a manifesto; something to apply practically in my day-today life.) The word ‘unification’ is key to this theory that I share with several voices that have come before me and have delved into fields of study such as Object-Oriented Ontology, agential realism, phenomenology, process philosophy, new materialism and speculative realism. In physics, the same word is used by those who support the unified field theory which sustains that everything, down to the dynamics of natural forces and elementary particles, can be described in terms of communications between fundamental fields (areas under the influence of forces such as gravity) that act as mediators between objects. It is a theory sustained by our relational commonalities, by an abstract and quiet dialogue, a galactic murmur. Similarly, Rosi Braidotti revisits the hippie sentiment turned corporate sponsorship slogan “We are in this together” and considers it important not to understand this in a “simplistic rhetorical manner” and urges that, in fact, “we are eco-sophically part of this, we are embedded, embodied, affective and relationally part of this”, and that we are bound by an “ethical relationality…a deep sense of multiple belongings”[80]. Karen Barad’s theory of agential realism is founded on the “ontological inseperability” of all things, and how agency is in fact a relationship as opposed to an attribute[81]. To continue harping on this line of expansive, posthumanist thinking that proposes radical, relational displacements, I’d like to insert a chart from Barad’s Meeting the Universe Halfway that vies for a shift from reflection (stagnant representation, binary and opaque reductionisms) and towards diffraction (multiple, complex and diaphanous relationships and fluid, conscious practices)[82]:
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*Maybe by understanding this primordial hyper-connectivity that binds all of us to one another, we can begin to combat the dangerously reductionist tendencies of humanity that have exercised different forms of exclusion and violence against a series of subjects. As Jane Bennet very keenly stated at her conference “Systems and Things” at the Nonhuman Turn Conference at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee: “Perhaps the most important stake for me at the nonhuman turn is how it might help us to live more sustainably with less violence towards a wider variety of bodies, and poetry can help us feel more of the liveliness hidden inside such things and reveal more of the threads of connection binding our fate to theirs”[83]. This conclusion to her conference very urgently sums up the objectives of Affective Vessels. As stated before, the project is a pressing call for unification and an avid, active search for commonalities that can lead to a polyphonous, choral and resolute act of strategizing how we can break down thee archaic structures that undermine, reduce and intend to debunk different bodies and realities. These grandiose statements should not seem breathless and optimistic but daunting yet hopeful. They imply a great undertaking, a radical shift in thought, disposition, behavior, relations, dynamics, practice, etc. Though it may be brash to state that the production of everyday, DIY theory and the practice of gathering empirical data, honing in on the diverse affective bridges we can have with a multitude of beings, can all lead to more harmonious relationalities, I humbly believe it could be a starting place. After all, the rather giddy lifestyle approach of ‘mindfulness’ in all of its buzzword glory is in fact popularizing these approximations. Though it may lack the persistent thump that theory roaringly uses to beckon us nearer, it is a step in the right direction: of becoming more observational regarding the within, the between, the outside, the foreign, the
* unknown, the surroundings and the complex relationships and dialogues that they we all hold with each other.
*Moving on to the objectives regarding the future and continuity of the project, the intention is that this ameba morphs over time; and —naturally— grows and is put in relation to other projects, perspectives, opinions, theories. The same frictional exchange between subjects that I vie for and celebrate must happen between this project and other voices. This is precisely why I decided to provide editable versions of the written content; a small gesture towards transparency, diplomacy and diversity. It is of much importance that the project, currently in its initial steps, continues to be fertile in approach and audience. The project is directed to restless or dormant creative thinkers of all ages who are fascinated the savagely varied phenomena of our world and the epic ecology of dire issues that threaten the realities and existences of subjects therein. We may be few, but as stated before, our struggles are more akin to each other than we realize. Thus, Affective Vessels takes the form of a personal, poetic manifesto as well as an empirical field research and investigation dossier for many more to question, add on to, transform.
*There’s a lot of talk about privilege in the current day and I think it is important to talk about it here in regards to the project. I must revisit my previous comments: doing theory is enabled by privilege. Having the time, resources, education and access to information are all first world luxuries; yet it is important to note that these resources aren’t vital to do theory. That said, the question would be, how does Affective Vessels matter in a world with so many varying socio-economic-politic realities? The rhetoric that I use, the language I use, are they accessible to everyone? Maybe not. Would they matter to everyone? Certainly not. As universal and all-encompassing and embracing as the project intends to be, how pragmatic are the critical inquiries and semi-solutions I provide? Can theory really save the world’s greatest woes? Can we learn to coexist and be more empathic towards a range of bodies and realities if we start with the object and the environment and our belittling and abuse of said ‘inanimate’ subjects, or vice versa? Possibly maybe. 
*I’d like to shift the focus to hope. Affective Vessels, writing theory and creating visual content from a place of privilege, are all humble contributions to change. That said, in no way is Affective Vessels meant to be altruistic, didactic, therapeutic, charitable and philanthropic. With these statements, I am not belittling my project but contextualizing it within our world and its primal needs. I firmly believe in what I say, yet humbly aware of the lack of pragmatism for addressing humanity’s severe and pressing issues. But I’d hope to think of it as a step in the right direction. The content of my essays can be put into practice, and is practice in itself. We can begin to cultivate new, fertile, future-facing relationships with different strata of existence, with diverse realities, with latent objects that share in the grand becoming, the hopeful process that tend toward progress. This all falls under Patricia Clough’s observation of the ‘‘affective turn’’ which “expresses a new configuration of bodies, technology, and matter instigating a shift in thought in critical theory…The Affective Turn especially marks the way these historical changes are indicative of the changing global processes of accumulating capital and employing labor power through the deployment of technoscience to reach beyond the limitations of the human in experimentation with the structure and organization of the human body, or what is called ‘life itself’…So we have what is left, the remains of learning together, encouraging us to be braver, more creative and even less adequate next time. So we leave you not only with our honored ghosts but with bodies, and bodily capacities, affective capacities to act, to attend, to feel, to feel alive”[84]. Her point is that affect can help us combat the anthropocene and biopolitical, necropolitical and capitalist regimes through reconfiguring our understanding of what is human and what is posthuman, what is alive and what is dead, and respecting the fie
*rcely diverse ways of feeling, sentience, sensoriality and contact.
*This is why I want to end on a note of hope. I have been pessimistic and skeptical about many matters in my life, which made me highly observational and eager to make connections, but on the other hand, closed me off from possibilities via writing things off, debunking things, dismissing things. Affective Vessels marks a hopeful turn in direction for this human subject.
*Hope is a part of our structure, and its substructure and its matrix. Systems tend to repair things, to ‘want’ to resolve conflicts, to stay ‘alive’ and survive. Be they embers of coal that are enlivened by a gust of wind, be it a second kidney taking the reins for the deficient one, be they cells devising ways to maintain homeostasis, be they veins, arteries, capillaries and platelets that all work to keep an animal from bleeding out, be they onions who grow buds or apples that grow moldy in your kitchen overnight; there is a natural tendency to improve, regenerate, process, transform, digest, fix and heal. Things fall into their seat, find their point of stability. Things combine. We see this in the way physics and fundamental mechanics describe the phenomena that enable life and subsistence and change. The becoming would be nothing without these natural, self-sustaining processes. As I contend in my essays, science, biology and taxonomy are overly-charted territories that seek to explain, debunk and exhaustively classify, and in doing so, reduce the mystery. This does not mean I am against said fields, nor can I ignore their contributions to how we understand the world, the internal world, the hidden world and have assisted in extending and saving (mostly human) lives and have contributed to our understanding of the pressing vitality of the environment; though even early humans had great, mystical respect for the primacy of nature without any scientific concept. Still, so much of our world is withdrawn, like Morton says. Science also helps us develop strategies and highly pragmatic plans for solving problems. All this said, there is room for more cohesion between science and art, biology and speculative realism, taxonomy and poetry. Again, not abolishing but fermenting a coexistence between fields of study, between various entities, is the next step; a transversal, deeper understanding, in the words of Kate Bush. Said composer has always had great respect for all
* sorts of things; in “Deeper Understanding” she expressing the warmth a computer brings her, and the dialogue its programs lend her; in “Mrs. Bartolozzi” she talks about how alive a washing machine can make a shirt, how its swhishy-swashy sounds inspire a sense of wonder in the everyday (which harks back to Trisha Brown’s affective-corporal study of mechanical systems in “Water Motor”); in “Misty” how she makes love with a snowman who drenches the sheets as they melt together[85][86][87][88]. Bush combines both phenomena that have psychological and scientific elements, as well as aethered mystery and swelling affectivity and mystery, and weaves them together seamlessly through poetry; poetry helps us find, or is itself, the common ground. This is similar to Björk’s extremely ambitious project “Biophilia” which sought to bridge the gap between nature —lightning bolts, gravity, lunar cycles— and music —arpeggios, chords, rhythm—[89]. So yet another tendency to eclipse and merge arises, to work collaboratively and transdisciplinarilly, and usually emerges from artistic, female, queer voices as well as from non-affluent/Western cultures. House music, sampling and remixing, fusing genres, contexts and subject matters, emerged from low-income black and queer communities in the United States, call-and-response is a Sub-Saharan improvisational and storytelling tradition that works democratically and dialectically between different groups and voices that work together to generate an open-ended piece. Can a common creole be generated by living affectively, by being open to dialogue, by being willing to listen, by looking in unusual places, by being hopeful about the bridges that already sustain and connect us? I believe so. I couldn’t fade out any better with Björk’s most beautifully epic and hopeful song “Unison”: