Sunday 23 August 2009
Saturday 8 August 2009
Out of Time
The top of a high tree against the cloudless sky, and the cool, murky vegetation green surrounding the roots, below the lower branches. Even the ruined shards of buildings, that was all that was left of my sweet city after ww2, as I walked dismayed among the doorframes and rubble hills. All bathed in glorious sunlight.
Giorgio de Chirico said that "there are many more enigmas
in the shadow of a man who walks in the sun than there are in all the religions past, present,and future".
Every object touched by that light is temporarily blessed by a defining and fleeting glimpse of eternity and truth. If I were religious I'd worship the clear sky, hidden by clouds. It's the only time I feel connected to everything and part of anything larger. The same shadow cast across my face graces trees, houses and cars. Summer's chemical haze lends a desperately needed infinity to the horizon and the dome above. It's the opening of the box and the freezing of all the people that thrive in the half light. Turning all the vampires to dust and the warriors to stone. Just like
the snow that covers the filthy tracks of progress from London to Birmingham, Cardiff to Newcastle.
denying the already questionable. Unprejudiced, indifferent and soft underfoot.
Giorgio de Chirico said that "there are many more enigmas
in the shadow of a man who walks in the sun than there are in all the religions past, present,and future".
Every object touched by that light is temporarily blessed by a defining and fleeting glimpse of eternity and truth. If I were religious I'd worship the clear sky, hidden by clouds. It's the only time I feel connected to everything and part of anything larger. The same shadow cast across my face graces trees, houses and cars. Summer's chemical haze lends a desperately needed infinity to the horizon and the dome above. It's the opening of the box and the freezing of all the people that thrive in the half light. Turning all the vampires to dust and the warriors to stone. Just like
the snow that covers the filthy tracks of progress from London to Birmingham, Cardiff to Newcastle.
denying the already questionable. Unprejudiced, indifferent and soft underfoot.
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