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The Territory of the Little People - Storm Clouds Approaching

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  The Territory of the Little People - Storm Clouds Approaching The atmosphere over Pine Creek churns before it breaks. The sky stops being a distant ceiling, and tears open into a fevered, gestural vortex, churning in fierce ribbons of cadmium gold, raw ember, and bruised ink. Here, in the suffocating stillness of the build-up, the heat plays violent tricks on my inner eye. As the squall gathers, the twisting ironwoods and fractured ridges don't feel empty; they crawl with the uncanny belief of the Little People, low-slung, watchful phantoms spun from wire, red dust, and dry static, waiting out the road's fragility. Every jagged branch and swirling filament of cloud becomes a face, an arm, a sinister presence breathing inside the rising storm, drawing the traveller deeper into the delirium of the interior. Be Creative and Innovative with Knowledge John Bennett - AKA JJFBbennett , is an independent artist. You can view and subscribe to my work via  Blogger , YouTube , Fl...
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Darwin Streets on a motorcycle: Sprigg

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The starting point






This is the starting point.
However, my starting points are flexible and never reliable.
For this reason I have started in the middle.
Although a street has a starting and finishing point, the stories of in-between are what I am interested in.

There is nothing ordinary in ordinary.
You don't have to be a christian to be a christian.
You don't have to be an American to feel powerful.
You don't have to ride a motorcycle to feel the road.

The problem is, there is too much road.


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