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The Empire of the Primrose

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  The Empire of the Primrose - Station 1 Do you have recurring dreams? Travel Sketches by metamodernist artist JJFBbennett The cycle always resets at dusk, like waking inside the cold architecture of an unyielding, repetitive dream. I walk the wet, cobbled veins of an ancient European city, passing beneath stone arches hung with heavy, lifeless flags, heraldry drained of colour, damp cloth clinging to wooden poles like dead skin. There is no breath of wind, only the low, humming pressure of an era turning in its sleep. I reach into an iron sconce and tear loose a torch of roaring, ragged fire. The flame casts jittering amber shadows against the masonry as I plunge down the same discrepant corridor, a passage that bends against geometry, narrowing and widening like an inhaling throat. The Empire of the Primrose - Station 2 Past the broken gargoyles. Into the moss-eaten ruins of a seated angel whose stone wings have sheared away to jagged stubs. And onwards, deeper into the vaulted h...
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Godin Refractive Reflection

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Across the scrub and through the winter's cold.
Through the wind tunnels of our cities we go.
Foraging forward to the promises of a warm embrace.

Then when it appears safe to count.
The whispers from our night mind contorts order of event.
Of what was never to be considered or to be questioned.

What is termed as to be expected?
Is not present in refraction, glimmer and enticement.
Until the realization when all should be questioned and disorientated.

What turns our attention is not what we seem.
As we are desperately unhinged from the stories of heritage.
And so it continues this paradox of acceptance and distraction.

We do not want to be seen through distraction.
However, as the light changes and the whispers entice our attention.
The management of knowing seeps through our figures.

Go to sleep and pass through pulsating dreams.
Wake afresh with new realizations.
It is in unconsciousness we make sense.





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