37 1984
'1984'
Oh great sky’s come o’er me! Oh flat lands come under my foot. Desert moon hilltop shingle shroud. Cloudless limits surmise in a tone of aqua blue. Is the sky a reflection of the sea? For yellow and blue make green, so the blue sky photons reflect, the Mardi Gras of Fat Tuesday with Rayleigh scattering an inverse proportion to the fourth power of a wavelength, so that shorter wavelength violet and blue light will scatter more than the longer wavelengths (yellow and especially red light). Morning sees the eagle fly; up, up & up! Ready to stalk the furrowed nest of a small rodent. A field mouse runs but is never caught in the blaze of long noon sun. The dappled hues of orange and yellow shine on the wheat. The grizzly bear escapades up the narrowing furlong crevice of rocky heights catching salmon in their wake. Long gone are the winter days of solitude to hear a bird cry for prey, to leave a track in the snow. Crushed ice glacier leaves a rupture in the landscape in emotion deep. The faint sound of a guitar playing soft jazz, maybe folk eschews in the children from a long summers play on the veranda.
Sat here in the middle of a dusty rocky flat land lies a Concrete relic of three large voluminous concrete square shells. Lonely they heighten the breadth of light, making shadow seem a play of mans making. Encouraged to intrigue me they stand so box they liken to trains stopped in their tracks. V-like. Enticing manufacture of the landscape a subterfuge of subterranean living lifted from a hewn cave of perfection in both proportion and colour. They glow effervescently grey and make assumptions about us as people to be curvilinear when they are not. Above all they demand a rhetoric of languish over such aroused simplicity male and female both together and apart through the framing of both positive and negative space as if both were required to counter-balance each other through the recourse that the concrete becomes possibly positive when the view is negative and vice-versa. Their clinical and candid cantankerousness make them jealous of the sublime flat land and its sublimation a result of their stark effrontery staying.
Lazy in credibility it feels for it. Incursive introvert making feelings dry with salty tears replace a fervent hot glowing rectory of coping mechanisms. Like the parched black earth on which it stands. Mesopotamian landmark covered in gold, merrily dancing with impassioned song of quietness. Blunted by its square form creating a short punctuation in the full stop landscape. Symbolic of its full stop. A mess to make it characterises nothing but retrograde finality. Its drop from the heavens make us believe more in its final restrictive glow or shine in the skank light. It is at once brutal yet delicate. There is nothing to really say but, without convention there are inanities that concede to time, place and life.
Colloquy of detachment detailed to breathe stark blizzard storms. Racing the eye for tranquility, alien invasion. They are at once blessed and defiantly proud to be American, so iconic of where this world has gone hey wire over lost inclusion to create cheap inclusion of many. Martha I govern you, Martha I reign supreme. So effortlessly and effervescently spring like, yet only nature could overgrow mans intervention with rage, passing the buck into simple materialistic dualism. Concrete complete.
