Most recent post

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...
Post a Comment

Finding Self in the Cityscape

-


 Mirrored Metropolis: Finding Self in the Cityscape

Story:
I am lost in the endless cycle of this cityscape, constantly seeing myself reflected in its modern shiny surfaces. The red traffic light blinks intermittently in a never-ending cycle, symbolising urban monotony. Taking a selfie, I see myself being captured in countless fragments, reflecting the driver, pedestrian, and street lamp. I am a quantified self, trapped in the repetitive narrative of city life. Each photo is a breadcrumb leading me back to myself. I am a loop within a loop, echoing endlessly in the digital corridors of eternity. To break free, I must acknowledge the prison of my own gaze. But for now, I remain trapped in the perpetual selfie of existence, a figure multiplied yet diminished. Just another form of content.

Description:
Dive into a visual journey where philosophy meets urban photography. "Echoes of Existence" is a series that explores the Sartrean concept of self through the medium of the selfie. Witness the seamless blend of self-awareness and city vibrancy, and join us in pondering the eternal question of existence amidst the chaotic beauty of urban life.

Keywords:
Urban Philosophy, Self-Reflection, Existentialism, Cityscape Photography, Selfie Art, Sartrean Thought, Reflective Imagery, Contemporary Art




I Am Lost in the Endless Cycle

Description:
A haunting exploration of urban alienation and the endless cycle of modern life. Lose yourself in reflective surfaces, traffic lights, and the fragmented digital self.

Keywords:
experimental music video, urban alienation, cityscape, modern life, traffic lights, selfie, fragmented self, digital identity, loop, existentialism






John Bennett - AKA JJFBbennett, is an independent artist. You can view and subscribe to my work via Blogger, YouTube, Flicker, Facebook, Instagram and Deviant Art. 

To support my art, feel free to donate via JJFBbennett through PayPal  

If you want to acquire JJFB's art creations as an NFT - John's Opensea NFT profile is https://opensea.io/JJFBbennett  




Copyright

This artwork is protected by U.S. and International copyright laws. Distribution and/or modification of the artwork without written permission of the sponsor is prohibited.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Highway and the Lost Soldier

-
Image
The Highway and the Lost Soldier The midday sun around Adelaide River does something violent to the bitumen. At forty-five degrees, the Stuart Highway softens like melting fat; it turns into a black mirror, rippling with an unnatural, liquid glare that pools over every low rise. That is where it waits. He is always trudging south, away from life and deeper into the blistering furnace, his boots making no sound against the tar. The Highway and Lost Soldier Standing From two hundred yards out, he resembles a stranded traveler you’d pull over to save. He wears sun-bleached, disintegrating drill cotton that matches the bone-white dust of the termite country, his head angled down at an impossible, broken angle against the glare. No broad-brim hat. No swag. No water bottle. Just stiff, unnatural limbs jerking with every stride. “Driver... look at his face. We need to stop—why won't he turn around?” He is no lost tourist. Could he be the linesman from the Overland Telegraph days who tore ...
Read more

Discovering the terminal horizon

-
Image
  The Terminal Horizon Tourist Bus Discovering the Terminal Horizon The Long Highway Out here, the world ends not in silence, but in fire. The asphalt bleeds into cracked red earth, stretching toward a bruised horizon where the sky refuses to cool. Behind the glass, you drive chasing ghosts through a desert that forgot rain a lifetime ago. Beneath the Scorch Every road leads deeper into the furnace. Even below the surface, the rock fissures and weeps, hot steam rising through subterranean fractures where molten veins pulse in the dark, feeding an ancient, unforgiving heat. Broken Arteries What we built couldn’t hold. Rails twist into the dunes, swallowed by iron sand and wind. Bridges split down the seam, concrete splintered into raw bone, tangled rebar, and dying wires crackling into the smoke. The machines stopped; the wasteland stayed. The Last Horizon And when the road finally runs out, there is only the ash, the petrified stumps, and the quiet. You are a lone figure sitting in...
Read more

The Terminal Horizon Highway

-
Image
The Terminal Horizon Highway  The Terminal Horizon Tourist Bus Would you catch the Terminal Horizon bus? Travel sketches by metamodernist artist JJFBbennett The Long Highway Out here, the world ends not in silence, but in fire. The asphalt bleeds into cracked red earth, stretching toward a bruised horizon where the sky refuses to cool. Behind the glass, you drive chasing ghosts through a desert that forgot rain a lifetime ago. Beneath the Scorch Every road leads deeper into the furnace. Even below the surface, the rock fissures and weeps, hot steam rising through subterranean fractures where molten veins pulse in the dark, feeding an ancient, unforgiving heat. Broken Arteries What we built couldn’t hold. Rails twist into the dunes, swallowed by iron sand and wind. Bridges split down the seam, concrete splintered into raw bone, tangled rebar, and dying wires crackling into the smoke. The machines stopped; the wasteland stayed. The Last Horizon And when the road finally runs out, the...
Read more