Most recent post

The Empire of the Primrose

-
Image
  The Empire of the Primrose The city fell in a single night Holding it would take longer So the painters were summoned in the gloom And the saints on the stone walls... Were given his family's eyes   A bloodline was found for him Older than the walls Older than the kings who raised them Now even the iron earth must forget It ever belonged to anyone else... I am the vessel, I am the decree The apex of empire, the false purity Holding the pale coronal into the glare Chartered to conquer the silence out there A seed of cold fences, an ark of damp clay Bending the void to the shape of decay The cycle resets in the dusk of the dream Cobblestone alleys and banners unseen Down the discrepant and tapering throat Past broken angels where gargoyles float Into the wood of the rot and the mould Smelling of Devon and iron gone cold One yellow petal, immaculate bloom Crushing the soul with the weight of its doom Touch the cold stem—and the spires bend back Cobbles turn red on the furnace-h...
Post a Comment

JJFBbennett.xverse

-

Project

Creating the JJFBbennett.x metaverse.


My world that is beyond
Connected with yours
Being and sharing
Interconnected
Chaotic manifestations
Without reasons to exist


Not as a useful commodity
As an elite private space
Educated and interconnected
Unwelcoming to most
A room of unlearning behaviors
Learning how to be idle and to self-engage
To self-civilize



In our world 
When you could once have an original thought
Despite the technical limitation and cost
We banded together to will an intention
Knowing there were no spiritual differences between x and y
We knew we could exist
In proposition and virtue



Within the earth, and the heavens
Where moments can eternalize
Where the cosmos appropriates
The golden house
Celestial and practical




From the ancients
Metal, glass, and precious stone
From the traditions that altered time
Revered and technically accomplished
Shaping all internal forces
Both living and dead.


Early in twenty twenty-two.
Come look at this.
On the edge of your seat.
Four branches.
An internal sphere.
Under the domed roof.
Circular as history.



A room within a room.
A sphere within a room.
The walls and shapes are glass.
Translucent light filters through the stains of colour.
The sphere is where you spawn.
Under a domed roof.
A circle within a square.


xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx






JJFBbennett YouTube Channel

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Blood Moon Scrub - Through the eyes of the Lost Soldier

-
Image
Through the eyes of the Lost Soldier The sky is bleeding into the dirt again, and the old hunger crawls up through my boots. It no longer matters. Time does not march out here. It pools beneath a dry creek bed, stagnant and unseen. But when the moon swells, heavy and bruised with copper rust, the cold in my ribs becomes a scald. The scrub does not burn with heat. It burns with memory. Through the tangled mallee, I see the flash of artillery, the orange-red roar of a barrage that never stopped falling, trapped forever inside the rib cages of these dead gums. I taste copper on my tongue, sharp as rifle oil and dried blood. The black heavens press down, bending the whole world inward until I am trapped inside a glass bead of fire. I pace the boundary where red light cuts into deep shadow, waiting for a relief column that lost its heading eighty years ago. Everything here is parched. I am so thirsty. But I do not want water. I want your nourishment. I want your dawn, your warm pulse, as yo...
Read more

Artist statement - AI ART and Meaning

-
Image
  AI ART and Meaning What role does an artist play when employing AI? Artist statement by JJFBbennett If we accept that AI can generate vast quantities of statistically “meaningful” content from data and algorithms, then meaningful art may lie not in the output itself, but in its selection and framing. AI functions as a kind of unconscious, producing raw material at scale. The artist’s role shifts from maker to curator: deciding what to extract from the data’s noise, what to present as art, the context in which it appears, and the conversation it enters. The artist as the muddler and meddler in the centre of it all. This shift has an art-historical precedent. In 1917, Marcel Duchamp’s *Fountain* made a decisive claim: the artist had not sculpted the urinal but selected it, titled it, and placed it in a gallery. Meaning arose from the gesture of choice rather than the act of making. Walter Benjamin, too, anticipated this logic in his reflections on montage and editing: meaning can e...
Read more

Adelaide River to Daly Waters: through the windscreen

-
Image
  Adelaide River to Daly Waters: through the windscreen Through the windscreen, the drive south from Adelaide River toward Daly Waters reveals the continent’s layered past, unfolding mile by mile. The journey is not merely a passage through space; rather, it is a confrontation with history itself, where the frontier’s rupture transforms the land into a living narrative of loss, power, and the slow, stubborn return of what was once taken. Once you cross that violent threshold, where modern roads carve through the repressed ghosts of the interior, you can never see the Australian outback the same way again. The bitumen transforms: no longer a mere ribbon of asphalt, but an audacious thread of technology stretched tenuously over ancient, dreaming ground. Southward, beyond the iron-stained ridges of Pine Creek and the sun-scorched Barkly plains , the story changes. Here, the land speaks of colonial bravado undone, of cultures and nations ground and reformed by force. Telegraph stat...
Read more