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Waking up

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  Waking up in the Necropolis Gully BK began her precarious descent into the Necropolis Gully , a name lost to a small number of archaeologists and rogue explorers. The crevice itself was a scar on the ancient landscape, a vast, yawning chasm that plummeted into the planet’s geological memory. As she rappelled down the sheer, moss-slicked wall, the air grew thick with the smell of damp earth and mineral deposits, a primal scent that felt undisturbed for millennia. Through her helmet augmented simulation, illuminating the colossal, jagged stones that formed the gully's walls with data. It was here, wedged deep within a natural alcove, that she uncovered the remnants of forgotten structures and life-like sculptures. These were not mere ruins of a collapsing city; they were foundational outlines, crystalline supports , and fused-metal segments hinting at a magnificent, but tragically unfinished, urban vision. The architecture was abstract, alien, and perhaps too grand for any tourist...
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My favourite image of the Week 004

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Breakfast piece
Herbert Badham1936

https://www.google.com/culturalinstitute/beta/asset/CAEJGudB0BW5Lw


There are multiple reference points
There are multiple perspectives
I am on the ladder
I am against the ceiling
I am standing in authority
I am not sitting with her
I am not with her
I must continually juxtapose

Within this disorientation, the arrangement is seemingly orderly
The painter, the authoritative who cannot decide
The seated lost within time and place
The pawn as the egg waiting on removal
Should I be more concerned with the flowers precarious standing on edge
Or the sense of a contained cell-like melancholy
A draughtsman at loss with the within presence






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