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Thanks so much to Hege, Laura and Lindsay for your fascinating
reflections on Frankenstein, monstrosity, art and science last week. I
was particularly interested in how your personal experiences with
monstrosity and technology inform your art practices and vice versa and
the complexity of the responses to them.
I have recently found myself entangled in an interspecies
onto-ethico-emotional quandry. The cat that cohabits my home is old as
cats go - 18 now and very much a senior. Until recently, he has been
cheery enough, still eating and spending his days outside. He is my
sundial: I look up intermittently during the day and, seemingly in his
sleep, he has moved south to north across the garden. He recently and
somewhat unexpectedly went into heart failure and was desperately trying
to draw breath. I rushed him to the vet, who grabbed him and disappeared
through the doors, leaving me stranded in the waiting room. She appeared
10 minutes later and informed me that he had fluid on his lungs and
would probably not last the day. She would try to remove the fluid but
warned me that he would likely die during the procedure. A bit dazed, I
wandered down to the coffee shop. Two hours later he was still alive,
although 10% lighter due to the fluid that was removed. I was shown into
an operating room and the vet opened up the black plastic bag acting as
a make-shift oxygen tent. I peered in to see him looking very bedraggled
and lethargic. A measuring cup with the 300millilitres of fluid
extracted from his lungs and chest was on the floor next to him. After
spending the day in the tent, we were sent home with anti-fluid tablets
and a caution that he would likely not survive the next couple of weeks.
I was to count his breaths and wait...The first two weeks were touch and
go. He didnt leave the house and barely moved from his favorite chair.
Although invasive and painful, this was a relatively minor technological
intervention. However minor, it brought him back from the brink. He has
spectacularly recovered - a reanimation if you will. He is old and more
tired, he drinks a lot more and pees a lot more but seems pretty
content. He is back to being a cat about town - very much the catty
flaneur of the street.
So where is the quandry? Well, I grew up on a farm and if my cat had
gone into heart failure we probably wouldnt have known because she would
have hidden herself off somewhere to die - or we would have considered
it part of the whole life/death thing and not intervened. Back to now -
I am still not sure if the intervention or resurrection was worth it.
Dont get me wrong. I care about him and would miss his chats and warmth
but he has had a good life. How much better (or worse) is it going to
get in the next few months? Although I am no longer counting his
breaths, we are still waiting...
Tarsh
--
Co-Convenor Quite Frankly: Its a Monster Conference 18-19 October 2018
Curator This Mess We're In 13 October - 2 November 2018 Unhallowed Arts
Festival 2018
Postdoctoral Research Associate • SymbioticA • School of Human Sciences
• The University of Western Australia • M309, 35 Stirling Hwy Crawley WA
6009 Australia • T +61 8 6488 5583 • M +61 (0) 432 324 708 • E
natarsha.ba...@research.uwa.edu.au
I acknowledge the traditional owners of the lands on which I live: The
Whadjuk people of the Noongar Nation. I acknowledge their ancestors and
pay my respects to their elders; past, present and future.
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