What is the Churn of the Unmade? Metamodernist art by JJFBbennett It isn’t just paint; it’s the heavy, exhausting gravity of pure affectation. I applied these deep purples and stark whites with a thick palette knife, wanting you to feel the weight of the medium itself—the messy, chaotic over-saturation of our digital lives, the constant noise. It’s dense, tactile, and completely overwhelming. But The chaos is interrupted by a line of perfect, unyielding geometry. A clear glass ring slicing straight through the noise. This physical ring stands as the initial boundary of awareness. On one side, the suffocating density of raw human expression and digital noise; on the other, a clean, projected window into an idealised, quiet simplicity. Where does the noise end, and where does our awareness truly begin? The glass ring doesn't just divide the canvas; it bridges two entirely different eras of the soul. Look to the left. You see that heavy, anxious abstract expr...
Jonus: scene 1 slide 1
Jonus works in an office. He has worked in this office for 20 years. He wants more but he doesn't know how to get more. Jonus feels anxious and threatened.
Jonus: scene 1 slide 2
Jonus would dwell on detail. The detail would observe him. For hours Jonus would stare and ponder. Stance could feel the coldness. It worried her. It took her concentration. She new things were visualizing and as they appeared to become real Jonus looked more and more dangerous. Jonus was now disappearing into himself daily. Stance could hear water, feel heat and feel weight. She knew it was anxiety. She had to take action.
Jonus: scene 1 slide 3
Into his mind did Jonus leap. His rock was safe. The river flowed strong. The flames were growing. Impending doom. Impending fear. Anxiety glassed his lungs. There was nothing to do but fall. The time is now. It was to happen. Jonus was lost from control. He needed to sleep. As long as the river flowed he could sleep. Sleep Jonus demanded of himself.
Jonus: scene 1 slide 4
Get out of my head. I want you out of my head. Sure you want to belong but I do not feel safe. There is some beauty in this fear but I still want you out of my head.
Jonus: scene 1 slide 5
Jonus felt the heat of each flame. He rested for a moment and perched within contemplation he waited for something to happen. And happening did pass him by. Jonus couldn't tell if it was an angle, spirit or memory but it knew him. In a fleeting moment the happening reflected a transcendental understanding. “You will be confronted and you will become frustrated, angry and full of hate. It will happen and you will gain control through revenge. In a short moment you will understand me and through misadventure become me.” Jonus understood a contract was made but couldn't be sure consent occurred. Motionless Jonus contemplate fate and reflected on his many missed opportunities.
Jonus and the 3 sisters
Jonus: scene 1 slide 6
And then the three sisters motioned towards Jonus. They were beautiful in threat, size and power. Veiled with petals of flame their beauty radiated. Jonus was in want. Wake up Jonus the sisters giggled. You have much to do. Your journey to enlightenment is to begin. We have waited so long for you to be with us.
There is a Disparity in My Light: Navigating the Split Creative Consciousness Introduction - Does Metamodernism Oscillate? Clarity, I've learned, doesn't guarantee a smooth landing. While the core recalibration manages our internal mechanics, we eventually have to look back out the window and confront the final destination. For many creators navigating major life transitions or complex technical boundaries, this shift introduces an unsettling inner divide. The anatomy of disparity in creative practice is the psychological friction of a split being—standing physically present in a new space while your internal pace is still trying to catch up with the velocity of your transition. When we widen our creative intent, we often slice our universe in half: balancing cold, geometric clarity on one side against the messy, vibrant residue of personal regret on the other. Rather than forcing these halves to blend, we must learn to treat this exact contrast as our personalised map. Geom...
What is the Disparity Portal? A Metamodernist Commentary by artist JJFBbennett Portrait of a Metamodernist Artist If you stepped through the glass ring, which version of yourself would look back? A metamodernist discussion by artist JJFBbennett. A calm young man with wavy, dark cerulean-blue hair and a subtle smile stands perfectly centred inside a massive glass ring portal. He wears a simple light blue long-sleeved shirt. Behind his head, an intense golden sunburst radiates sharp, blinding rays. To his left are thick purple impasto swirls; to his right is a serene green valley painting. High-detail digital art, metamodern, surreal masterpiece. The Churn of the Unmade Look at the left side of the canvas. It isn’t just paint; it’s the heavy, exhausting gravity of pure affectation. I applied these deep purples and stark whites with a thick palette knife, wanting you to feel the weight of the medium itself—the messy, chaotic over-saturation of our digital lives, the constant noise. I...
Image to be added - watch this space My Psychological Landscape: A Speculative Ecology of the Stratosphere Introduction What is Terrestrial Control? What is Stratospheric Flow? Image to be added - watch this space The transition from the terrestrial to the atmospheric is rarely just a matter of mechanics; it is a profound undoing of the architectural ego. We board our vessels encased in the comforting math of engineering, believing we are merely shifting a physical mass from one geographical coordinate to another. But at a certain altitude, the boundary between the internal theatre of the mind and the external expanse of the world begins to fray. As the metal hull and the quiet murmurs of the cabin dissolve, I am no longer just travelling through the sky; I am becoming a part of it. Stepping directly into the stratosphere, the heavy, churning clouds of deep teals and bruised indigos cease to be merely a reflection of my psychological landscape—they reveal the fluid, boundle...
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