Losing The Soul

I had another dream about the broken antique silver key that everyone wanted. While trying to find its meaning, I stumbled upon a stray thought. I was considering the meaning of uniqueness. In a mechanistic world full of uniformity and conformity, a handmade item is prized for its difference from the usual slew of identical objects.

However, these items are easily co-opted by capitalism. Native American handicrafts have a unique flavor of their own because they are made by hand, by Native Americans no less. Once these items start being made in large numbers, their aura diminishes. Each item, though physically unique through handcrafting, becomes a unit in a long series of units. Put together, each unique item becomes just another in a crowd.

This is possibly where the soul is lost in many modern societies. A good thing is found and effort is made to replicate it for all. But by providing for everyone, the precious object is provided for no one. After all, there can be only one original: The one that set off the craze in the first place.

In a way, every other item in the series has become a cheap copy: the spark of creativity no longer exists in it since nobody is attempting to create the next unique item. Every other derivation may become a soulless work, created solely to replicate the success of the original. No longer is it an expression of individuality. No longer does it have its soul.