Exploring Gnosis & Randonautica with T.H. Kainaros
Ecosystem, 2024; T.H. Kainaros
T.H. Kainaros and I share a belief in gnosis; we envelop ourselves in spiritual mystery.
He is pensive, poetic, subtle, and thoughtful. We met on Tinder when I arrived in Pittsburgh, seeking solace and distraction amid an emotional breakup and unexpected change in my life’s course. I was not supposed to be here, and I am exactly where I am meant to be. It is not easy making friends as an adult, and it is too easy to make temporary connections shrouded in romantic foibles and call it a relationship.
Avoiding disaster, Kainaros and I focused on our roles as artists. His body of work on Instagram moved me; inside his ethereal illustrations and intriguing animations, I gave way to the haunting of his spirit. His art told me more than his words in conversation had, as of yet, and I sensed a true kinship. We began a friendship grounded in creativity and vulnerability. Our individual artistic processes guide us to the blank page or screen or canvas without forethought, allowing intuition to guide color choice, brush size, layering effect, and hand motion. Trusting the rhythm of flow lends us easy access to explore gnosis. Self-discovery through art provides comfort. We are two introspective souls navigating a world we often feel out of touch with.
Kainaros introduced me to Randonautica, a “Create Your Own Adventure“ app. The objective of a Randonautica adventure is to notice what is brought to your attention and to engage the environment and yourself with curiosity. The app randomly generates coordinates that enable the user to explore their local area. According to its creators, the app is ‘an attractor of strange things’. It gained controversy after a report of two teenagers coincidentally finding a corpse—in West Seattle, where I used to live—while using the app.
Our adventure began at 61B Cafe.
I was excited to see Kainaros; my body can relax in his company which tells me this person is a friend. He listens and supports with gentle curiosity. He does not try to change me or provide unsolicited advice. I am accepted.
We caught up on our lives, discussing family, relationships, artistic dreams, and the ongoing struggle to carve out more time for what we love—placing creativity in a war against financial “success”. Kainaros shared his previous Randonautica experience as a model for understanding, and then he “spun” for directions three times (to avoid landing in someone’s backyard). A digital bird flapping its wings signaled our path was loading. Our destination was revealed: Frick Park.
It was natural for me to point out magical elements of our surroundings with Kainaros. We wove sacred narrative as we walked.
A sandwich board proclaimed, “Be yourself, not someone else.” A black limousine from another era adorned with alien green headlamp covers and a kayak on the roof. The word “funeral” came to mind. A voice inside causes me to wonder aloud if I might commune death in the water. Kainaros lets the comment float on the air.
We noted the juxtaposition of license plates—the 3333 beside the 4333.
Two little libraries at the corners of neighboring yards. The first contained treasures—works by Dorothy Parker, a poet, and Philip Pullman’s Daemon Voices, a book about the art of storytelling. I am assured that my own practice of Memoirtistry® is worth all the time I give it. The bird on the cover, a crow. We paused then, and I flipped randomly to page 189. “Great art has always had this double character, this ability to look at the world and to look at itself at the same time, and the greatest art is perhaps where we see the two things in perfect balance.”
The second library was uninviting, the titles heavy with religious undertones–live grenades–and so we continued along. We discussed a listening exercise I learned during a kayak tour to Sycamore Island led by artist Erin Mallea with Shiftworks. Participants were instructed to identify sounds to focus on, noticing thoughts, feelings and bodily sensations. I’d followed the sound of a siren that day, inducing grief. Revisiting the thought, I felt a sudden pang of homesickness for the trails I frequented in Washington. But here I was with Kainaros and I cherished the present. The birds chirped overhead signaling our arrival to Frick Park.
“I’m like a bird, I’ll only fly away,” I sang aloud. We laughed. Retreating into nature is a reprieve from digital noise. In this sanctuary, we began to discuss the weight of social media, the scarcity of genuine connection, and barriers that often confine artists. Kainaros and I agree it is a challenge being artists in a society addicted to distraction, in a system that doesn’t know what to do with us. On Instagram, I display what inspires me to stay the course when I want to give up, assuming no one wants to listen to what I have to say. Listen to yourself, a disembodied voice whispers.
A chipmunk with full cheeks darted across a fallen tree trunk. An acorn fell from above, and both Kainaros and I moved toward it. He reached it first. A second acorn dropped but I couldn’t ascertain which it was among the many, so I refocused on the chipmunk. I want to be drawn to what nourishes me, the voice admits. My instinct is intact.
“No one knows we’re doing something on purpose,” I remarked to Kainaros. “They don’t know they’re a clue to something.”
What appears random at first glance can reveal connections and insights that expose profound truths about ourselves.
When attention is paid, with intention and openness, it fosters understanding. This is a free activity, available all the time. As we wrapped this adventure, he escorted me to my car. Hugging him goodbye feels like touching a human who is dreaming—awake and sleeping, he is always one foot in the liminal realm.
Gnosis is a feminine Greek noun which means "knowledge" or "awareness." It is often used for personal knowledge compared with intellectual knowledge—those things you “just know”. In 2020, I was formally diagnosed with PTSD. The prefix “dia-“ means “complete”. Dia-gnosis is “complete knowledge”. I have the key. The concept of gnosis tells me the knowledge I seek to heal is accessible inside my own body. I can live free of anxiety and worry when I discern patterns of synchronicity and heed the omens nature offers.
I connected to a deeper sense of self with Kainaros that day; his peacefulness encourages me to be more of me, not live into some ideal anyone may project of me. There is no mask I must wear, no act I am required to perform; I can explore the shadows and light of my own consciousness and he is capable of bearing witness.
The Third Dream, 2024; T.H. Kainaros
As our days continued separately, we shared texts noting the symbols. Gnosis will not produce neatly packaged answers, but engaging in the ongoing process of discovery generates purpose in our lives. The act of engaging sincerely with the world—being present, observant, and open to the unexpected—gives rise to a deeper understanding of our existence. It is what artists do; and art supports life.
Presence is the ascension, and I am in heaven beside Kainaros.
