When the sun dies, what will it look like standing here on earth looking out?
Knowing that the movement we collectively share would be our final rotation.
A feeling that we are inexplicably tied to. A feeling you cannot un-feel.
Every creature has shared this experience, since birth or even before – from their mother’s womb.
Coruscant timeless guiding
blinded seething murmur
heliacal movement radiance
mud bathed, honey soaked
lewd corpsing creature
blood flat fleece
comprising human quality
Hysteria or community trauma - perhaps neither.
There is a divine beauty in unknowing. A duality.
Let’s try together.
Pushing water uphill.
The relationship we hold is curious.
The demon sharpens their claws. A defined defiler.
There is nothing in their mind. Nothing – perhaps a cobweb waiting for the breeze to blow it away.
A reset to default.
The sun is a giver of life, it is our host.
Humans – fleshy flow.
Sealed like a hot knife to an open wound.
Hidden in shadow breather
Flawed utopia imperfect
exponentially lay beneath the same open air.
Enter the chimera. A beautiful grotesque. Protected by a Six-legged dog.
At once, uneasy
The optimistic but unlikely six-legged dog—broken jawed.
At the end of the Anthropocene party, who’s going to be left to clear up?
Running milk river,
slippery unknown groves.
Surprised by cornered stares from serpents birthing
this is an ending
mis-en-scene is concluded,
let the beauty take over.
When everything is abnormal.
Burn the bridge
Jump the void.
Shoot the wolf at your door
Find the fatal flaw
Beneath the cellar door.
A monastery, a place of refuge, protection, healing pool contained of alchemic honey and soil.
The structure is no longer a catalyst – a revivalist.
Removed purely pious connotations, you are left with a new kind of Monastery:
To be fortified by a belief system. A place that once housed static communities -
this was formerly a medieval rave.
We’ve had the age of enlightenment.
Now – what defines now?
Perhaps, the age of unconsciousness or even the age of divine unfamiliarity.
If it is divine unfamiliarity, then surely it is just collateral bliss.
Unsubscribe from the old dogma.
Realisation comes in many strange iterations. Some of them blinding.
Tripping on a step in your sleep, running through fog.
There is always something there - to catch you off-guard.
What would happen if these instances occurred no more?
What if they were to become absent?
To deactivate, decapitate and de-captivate.
Learn and unlearn both the primary and secondary functions.
An earthly practice. Apiculture in its definitive form is tied to ancient practice. It cannot be unbound.
Human protection becomes the architect of devotedness.
Man tends to the creature before him to ultimately save himself. An anthropic reciprocity.
Mankind shares and exploits the wealth of the hive.
What you are experiencing is a kind of unrequited love.
- Not of mortals but of land and home.
The evening shade turns
Revealing a feigning appearance.