Navigating Inner Galaxies The Anomaly Entrypoint As I approach the swirling anomaly, a feeling of dread begins to settle in my stomach, cold and heavy like a lead weight. The ship trembles slightly, a subtle vibration that hums through the deck plates and up into the soles of my boots. I can see the glowing colours reflecting off the cockpit’s interior – shifting hues of cerulean, violet, and emerald, each one pulsing with an unnerving, otherworldly light. It’s mesmerising and terrifying all at once, a cosmic dance of light and shadow that draws me in, an intoxicating invitation to step beyond the confines of reality and into the unknown. The Anomaly is incomprehensible Every sensor on the console blinks a warning, a cacophony of alarms that I've long since learned to ignore. My fingers, steady despite the growing unease, hover over the controls, ready to initiate evasive maneuvers if the anomaly shows any signs of aggression. I grip the console tighter, the cool metal grounding m...
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Lost and Gone
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Lost and Gone
Poem:
Funnelled into this tunnel
We tiptoe on an obscure path, sinking further into acceptable societal norms. Our leaders are the shining stars of opportunity, hope and desperation. We are wearing modernist chains as productivity symbols. We continually inch forward. Bound by their unspoken agendas.
The tunnel shields us from the glimmer of what could be. We carry the burden of shattered aspirations. We forgot them as the junk of continuous acquisition minced us into meta pulp. What drives our reluctance to deviate from this tunnel?
The way towards a post-capitalist society are intertwined with our innermost galaxies. Can we continue waiting for the moment we can see clearly through the fluorescent lights? Years and years? Generations and generations? Lost and gone.
Story:
Our footsteps echo in compliance on a dark path. Every person watching is a unique shadow, a beautiful and intricate figure composed of unfulfilled dreams and values. We carry chains mistaken for rhythm, our procession of self-imposed burden. The tunnel, an artificial cocoon, becomes a womb of obscurity. We are like Sisyphus, carrying the weight of unfulfilled potential, dissipating against the hard surface of routine. We have the power to step out of line, to break free from our invisible shackles. Yet we stay silent in this parade of shadows and echoes. Is it fear or comfort that holds us in this spectral dance? To break free means facing the unknown, the blinding light of possibility. But we created this tunnel, and the map of the stars is etched on its walls, waiting for us to look up.
Description:
Embark on a metaphorical journey through the 'Tunnel of Self-Reflection.' This video art piece captures the essence of walking a path paved with echoes of our choices and the silhouettes of dreams yet to be fulfilled. As you watch, consider the chains of habit and the weight of potential within us all. Are we comfortable in the darkness, or are we ready to step into the light of the unknown? Join us as we explore these profound questions in a hauntingly beautiful setting. #PathToSelfDiscovery #UnfulfilledDreams #MetaphoricalJourney
Keywords:
Metaphorical Journey, Self-Reflection, Unfulfilled Dreams, Life's Path, Philosophical Art, Echoes of Choice, Chains of Habit, Potential and Fear, Comfort in Darkness, Breaking Free, Self-Discovery, Artistic Interpretation
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.
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