Recently, I have been thinking about spiders, not by chance but because my partner has become increasingly fascinated by them. She stops to look at them wherever we go. They are everywhere.

And as with many other things, I follow her lead and get curious about things she pays attention to. I now keep photographing spiders.

Documenting them opens a portal to closeness.

Their existence has made me question a few things. Otherness and solidarity to begin with.

Following the pathway and methodology of a spider, I started spinning a thin line of fragile thoughts together. As I did, something got caught.

Starting with,

otherness -------------------------------||*||

 
As a visibly genderqueer creature for over a decade now, I’ve lived enough years to understand where I do not want to be seen. Like a spider in the familiar and comfortably dark corners, I can thrive and keep creating my own webby worlds with other creatures alike. However, you never know when the giants with their brooms arrive unannounced to cause disruption, conducting hostile acts of “cleanliness”.

But as we become aware of the ones who want to destroy our way of living, we become aware of each other and corners similar to ours. The community of creatures willingly and unwillingly living in the cracks of this so-called structure. All waiting for the day it will fall for good, so we can start the rebuild. After all, I’ve never seen a more carefully crafted and visionary design than a web of a spider.

otherness-------------------------------solidarity-----||*||

 
The line between these two words is strong by spirit. We recognize each other and often want to be supportive of one another. But when times get really dark, our instincts for individual survival get triggered. And if the broomers come sweeping every corner at once, you hold on tighter to your own. True solidarity becomes a real challenge when you yourself are under a threat. What would a spider do to another spider?

||*||—--my power—------------otherness-------------------------------solidarity-----

 
Individual power, for me, links tightly with the feeling of otherness. I am not yet thriving, but I am definitely surviving and inspired by this experience I have been given in the cracks of a haunted mansion. Being an “other” has been my only entryway to life for a while now. It’s a unique view from which to witness life, seeing all while not being seen yourself, not often, at least. It’s hard to take a photo of a moving spider. And they are usually sheltered by darkness, so you’ll end up with an underexposed blur. Sometimes, it seems that only when the spider itself wants to be seen may you approach. I would like this to be true.

---—--my power—------------otherness-------------------------------solidarity-----
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                                   spectrum—-------------||*||

 
A web of multiple thin and silky lines spewing in all directions at once is best seen from a specific angle. This angle keeps shifting over time. A perfect uncontrollable order of life, vaguely enough compressed to one word: spectrum. There is a spectrum in the way we are positioned in the realms of otherness. There’s always another corner, more exposed to attacks than yours. When talking about solidarity. For me, it is to understand this. It takes everyone’s effort to continue believing in the collapse that helps us all while giving space for distinct lived experiences. Mine is not yours, and yours is not mine. Those lines in between carry meaning.

                                                                  ||*||
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---—--my power—------------otherness-------------------------------solidarity-----
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                             spectrum —---------------------------shared power

 
It takes a bit of painful honesty to let go of what you could gain by adding one more layer to the web to attract all possible flying things. Checking boxes to be validated as the “other” worthy of rewards is a thread we all spin. There’s a distinct difference between the self-experienced otherness and the presented one for the boxes. True solidarity, in my eight eyes, is knowing when to stop spinning.

In the end, we all want to be here to witness how the structure finally collapses.

It’s going to look beautiful, waiting at the centre. ❞

Elian Mikkola