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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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Flagstaff Gardens Missing Statues

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This is a matter of inference rather than direct seeing
Seven burials took place here
No evidence that the bodies were exhumed
What potential
If we want to understand it’s time to reinvent

We act as forgeries in the style of what we really want
Only to became redundant due to the introduction of a new technology
Then knowing we have been found out
We lack the  knowledge
Like fallen angles that lack life and emotional play

Taking the historicist position by what we forgot about it
Through the development of scientific knowledge
The colony of identity has been re-established
Normalised aura
To form once again - a unique existence in a particular place in time

This magnificent achievement that time has reshaped
To what is now less good, less beautiful, less awe-inspiring, less interesting
Our memories reliant on reward and monetary gain
Walk on by and think less about it
When none of the original statues exist, it nolonger matters.









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