As below, so above. The mimic is not a mere plagiarism machine. Nobody came to an authentic idea first to claim it as the “official” one. The ultra-visible official narratives manifested in advertisements and global infrastructure networks attempting to hide the grotesque nature of consumption are the two ends of the same thread. There's no mimicking at all. We are all being moved around by the same patterns and systems. We are disoriented in this labyrinth, believing there's a turn we can take to set ourselves on a better route. We got pushed around and arrived at the same place simultaneously.

Between virtual worlds and everything“ in real life,” the boundary is becoming oblivious, and we can’t seem to escape it. Everything we face is in reality, virtual or not.

Many plants from my childhood memories don't survive the winters in Canada, but they grow here, in miniature forms as houseplants. There were mango trees grown for shading the sidewalks from the summer heat, with their unripe but heavy fruits reaching down towards the passers-by. There were ficus trees with shades for a few families to picnic beneath them. Unsurprisingly, the homebody versions are often out-of-place, tiny and limp, resembling nothing of the ones in their home habitat. 

The dynamics of gardening always appeared to me as an assertion of power. One can always find parallels between how people treat each other and how gardens and yards are kept.