I have temporarily transferred my life across state lines. It’s not a holiday, I’m just living my life in a different state for the next three weeks. This week I’ve been experimenting with hard copy art, pencil sketching for the first time in years. It’s going surprisingly well, and I do like the control I have on paper that I’m still learning with a stylus.
Find following: an observation of surreality; an untitled poetic fragment that splintered off a rhyme scheme; and a micropoem.
The surreal at its most basic is a warping of apparent reality. Most commonly through excessive detail, or excessive vaguary. A single tiny fragment of existence, pulled out and expanded until it occupies its own universe. A full-frame picture looked at askance, blurred slightly or tilted, an uncommon perspective drawing forth new meaning. The surreal is ultimately anchor to the ‘real’: it is an evolution, a metamorphosis, a regression, a variation. A modification of perspective or display that gives space for a new interpretation to rise. A purposeful break from the barriers of autopilot thought processes and foregone conclusions.
Our pretty requiem
sung to a void dirge
into the spaces illuminated
impetuous we surge.
Things brought and things dragged. What follows in your wake?