The art of monetising fear Script Politicians have long mastered the art of monetising fear, transforming societal anxieties into powerful tools for garnering votes, donations, and loyalty. By amplifying threats, whether real or exaggerated, they create a sense of urgency that compels the public to rally behind them, funding campaigns and endorsing policies that promise protection. This strategy not only secures their power but also perpetuates a cycle where fear becomes a lucrative commodity, much like how alarmist narratives drive engagement and profits in broader discourse. So why don't more contemporary artists leverage or expose this political platform, given that power and art have always been symbiotic? 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 , Flicker , Facebook , Instagram and Deviant Art . Subscribe to JJFBbennett's private...
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From Darwin to Barcelona
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Between Peaks and Valleys: A Journey Within
Story:
We march forward, each step stirring dust into the still air, our silhouettes etched against the vast expanse of twilight mountains. The sun, neither fully risen nor set, hovers like a silent witness—a guardian of beginnings and endings. Here, between peaks and valleys, we move in unison, though each of our journeys is uniquely our own. No destination is spoken aloud; we are suspended in transit, navigating a realm where time unravels, and place dissolves.
This is the sacred space between past and future, where each step is an act of faith—a leap into the unknown. The mountain's shadow reaches out as if to pull us back, yet the light on the horizon calls like a promise we cannot ignore. Our burden is more than physical; it is the weight of unanswered questions, deferred dreams, and the hope of arrival. Our courage, a beacon in the twilight, leads us forward.
Together, we climb the ridges of possibility and descend into valleys of doubt, each step a silent mantra: Keep moving, for this, too, is part of becoming. We come to realise that the journey is not just across landscapes but through inner worlds—worlds that mould and remould as we walk, just as the terrain shifts beneath our feet. We have come to understand that change is as certain as the shifting landscape.
At this transition threshold, we are neither lost nor found but becoming. In this liminal passage, we realise that the journey itself is the destination. The sun’s glow always fades and returns, for movement is eternal. And so, we walk, not toward a place but toward becoming, each step a whisper: Here we are, in the middle of the in-between.
Description:
This is a poetic exploration of the journey of self-discovery and transformation. This evocative piece uses vivid imagery and metaphors to capture the essence of being in transit, navigating the unknown, and embracing the constant state of becoming.
Today, I'm taking a journey from Darwin Airport, where the heat and excitement are building. It's a hot September day, and I'm waiting for a jet to Singapore.
Darwin airport is a bustling hub, but there is space to walk and stretch. The sky is blue, and the heat is intense, but Singapore, here I come. I'm eager to board my flight and embark on this amazing journey.
So, I just need to sit back, relax, and enjoy this exciting moment waiting at Darwin airport. Safe travels, everyone!
I'm so excited to be in Singapore, even for a 3-hour stopover. Unforgettable experiences are everywhere. If you need a quick pick-me-up, we've got just the thing for you - a fast walk for a coffee!
Singapore Changi Airport Terminal 3 has plenty of coffee shops and cafes, but you must find them. From traditional kopitiams to hipster cafes, you'll find various coffee options to suit your taste.
So, why not take a stroll on the Travelator and enjoy the sights and sounds of Terminal 3 while sipping on your favourite cup of joe? It's the perfect way to recharge and prepare for the next adventure.
Everything is so still
As we fly over Greece
Sitting eating sleeping
Transcending from dream to dream
Thinking of time
And the occasional disturbance
The whole ship of us - together
Today, we're sharing a fascinating travel story from our recent trip to Barcelona. So, buckle up, and let's dive right in!
After a long flight from Singapore to Barcelona, we eagerly anticipated our arrival at our Airbnb. Little did we know, our taxi driver had a few surprises in store for us. As we made our way through the bustling city, we passed by a cemetery, a tunnel, and a small park before finally reaching our destination.
It was an unexpected journey, but these little moments make travelling memorable. We can't wait to share more of our adventures with you. Until the next adventure, safe travels!
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.
Puppet Master The narrow, high-walled passage swallowed the sound of my boot scraping a broken cobblestone, the echo sharp in the dry air. Above, a sliver of unforgiving sunlight cut down, carving deep shadows where the damp, mossy scent of the gully was now replaced by the smell of dust and ancient stone. I paused, looking not just at my gloved hand—the leather scuffed from my descent, but at what was attached to it. Thin, nearly invisible lines, like high-tensile wires , stretched from the articulated cuff on my wrist and disappeared into the air above the path. I tracked them with my eyes until they converged on a small, stone figure standing motionless in the centre of the walkway. It was a crude marionette , barely a foot tall, carved from the same pale, cracked stone as the surrounding walls. Dressed in a simple tunic, its blank, oval face held a radiating sense of expectant waiting. Its arms were held out, palms up. I held the strings. Yet, the feeling was not one of cont...
Scene 1 It smells like… time down here. Not just damp earth or rot, but something older. A primal scent that’s been waiting in the dark for a millennium. I’m recording this at the bottom of the scar somewhere in the anomaly. In my mind, it's called the Necropolis Gully . My helmet is trying to map it—casting these sterile, digital grids over the moss and the stone—but the data doesn’t make sense. It’s glitching. It’s shuddering against the reality of this place. I don't know why I'm here, looking at ruins. Just... debris. But in the ruins, I found the ghosts of a future that never happened. I was walking over shards of polymerised memories . This was once a city. It was meant to be the heart of a new world that... simply stopped. It wasn't an engineering failure. It was a failure of existence. Holding that slate, I felt this... weight. The grief of the architect. The "wounds of unbuilt dreams." I realised then that this isn't a graveyard for people. It’...
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