One of the interesting consequences of moving personal identity out beyond the confines of the brain and body is that our feelings about external objects and people becomes enmeshed with the sense of self.
When I’ve had my car broken into or, worse, had a robbery in my home, I always had a feeling of personal violation. When some one I love is feeling bad, I feel bad. When they are away or, in the case of my parents, have passed away I feel as if I lost a part of myself.
And under an assumption of extended cognition, I really have lost a part of myself because those people or things are a part of me- or at least a part of the mental model of me.
This makes creating art hard. The photograph I posted just now is a part of me. I decided to capture the image, conceptualized a look for the final image and used my skills of image manipulation to try and realize that vision. Now that its out there it is not separate from me. It actually represents me in the world. Criticize it and I will feel attacked.
