We are 

the curators

of our own

exhibitions

of us;

musea

of individuals.

Communal

rituals

are much more

rare,

as virtual

signals,

like likes

and hearts,

keep the parts

we choose

for “friends”

to peruse

showcased

front

and center.

To enter

into 

someone’e

collection

requires little

to no

interjection.

Online detection

becomes

an addiction,

now an affliction

for most.

But as host

and curator

of our identities,

Big Tech

as aggregator

entities

provide hidden

strategies

so that any

inquiries

from our

curiosities

become

commodities.

We are more

connected 

to the

data

and to Google

and Meta

than to

the people 

we think

should matter.

What’s even

sadder

is 

that we give

permission

for our own

submission.

Meanwhile

we style

our images

as though

our personages

are accessible

and never

unacceptable.

It’s deceptively

easy

and imperceptibly

sleazy

though we 

believe

we exhibit

control.

Everyone’s

a content

creator;

a curator

of their own

identity.

But the work

of art

is inquiry,

discovery, and

thinking creatively;

not merely

self expression.

Through art

we get 

to see

and hear

differently

not just

what we 

wish to be.

I can curate

the gallery

of me,

but that’s just

an exhibition

or meaningless

display.

Meaningful curation

can be

its own

art form

creating new

iterations

and connections;

daring 

to ask

probing

questions

through communications

beyond 

our self-curated 

exhibitions.

These are

the essential

conditions

for cultural

and personal

growth.