We are like filter coffee

To patch the gaping hole left by the absence of meaning in life, we collectively invent ways to distract ourselves. As someone with a background in advertising, I recognize this as my professional domain. But as an artist, I’m more interested in simply meditating on that hole… or poking it gently with my finger.

Who am I? Who are you? We are filter coffee.

So let’s imagine a vast, endless, unknowable mass of ground coffee. The material is uneven — some high-grade, some cheap, some filled with vitamins, some rotting with trash. We don’t know what’s inside.

Now imagine this mass being passed through hot water (time) via one giant filter. In different places, it spills into many different cups. Each cup contains coffee, but each one tastes completely different, depending on what part of the grind passed through that spot on the filter.

Got the picture?

Now think of your experience with people. Have you ever seen someone physically beautiful (a perfect cup) but the moment they speak, you realize you absolutely can’t drink that coffee? Or met someone whose words are smooth like poetry, yet when you leave the room, there’s a weird aftertaste in your mouth? Or the opposite, someone plain on the outside who leaves the sweetest aftertaste that lingers for years?

When we look at others, we start to realize we’re also just coffee in a cup. We might even start comparing. “I’m not as tasty. I need more sugar. Maybe I can be better than the others.” That’s called self-deception. Or self-branding. Or self-identity. Pick a name.

But the truth is always in the aftertaste. And you can’t fake that. You can’t cover it with spice. This is how you can filter your surroundings. Or notice that there is no one around you. Maybe it's time to test your taste.

Then you can go to the level of a large one filter. See that everyone around you is the same thing, but with different filtering experiences.

This is the state I like to paint from.
When I see both myself and the canvas as filters, something magical happens. There’s this moment of receiving the raw material and letting it pass through. It’s not about technical skill, or perfect brushstrokes, or composition. It’s about being honest enough to see yourself in the mirror.

And then comes the hardest part: accepting yourself not as the cup of coffee and one giant filter, but as the whole process. The grinding, the filtering, the brewing. Before the cup. After the cup. Everything that comes to be filtered must be filtered and turned into coffee. Into unique experience. And that has no meaning. And that’s okay.

Once you realize this, you can become simple, light and maybe even leave a tiny bit of shit in your brew, just for that interesting note.