Embers over the Billabong Deeper into the scrub, darkness thickens, steeped in a heavy, ember-red glow. Overhead, the canopy dissolves into silhouettes, twisted paperbark and gum branches clawing through an atmosphere that smoulders with charcoal grit and iron dust. Then, the bush yields to water. Nestled in the basin of the scrub, a still billabong collects the night in an entirely different register. While the air above blazes raw crimson, the surface below gathers cool, luminous pools of cobalt, indigo, and shattered violet. For a moment, the outback’s heat seems suspended. There is only the quiet breathing of timber, the mirrored water holding the dark, and ancient country resting at the threshold between fire and stone. 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 pri...
Trapped in a cosmic gridlock, navigating space felt less like an adventure and more like rush hour back home. Ahead, the opulent cruise liner, The Stellar Serpent, dominated the view, its countless portholes gleaming with the carefree anticipation of its occupants. We were surrounded by a frenzy of vessels, from elegant private yachts to bulky cargo freighters, all vying for position, their navigation lights impatiently flickering like agitated fireflies.
Our Subi yearned to escape, but felt anchored. Katcha, usually composed, emitted a low growl. Our frustration mounted. This jockeying for position was proving expensive. The Subi’s guidance system incessantly blared “Collision Alert (Minor),” each warning was complemented by a blast of avoidance energy. Days seemed to crawl by, the euphoria of the Kepler Kiss now a fading memory. This wasn't the boundless exploration we'd paid for; nothing is worse than this illogical congestion.
Then, a subtle change. A barely perceptible shift in the massive cruise liner's engines, a slight drift to starboard. Our moment had arrived! With a rush of adrenaline and a sudden, involuntary blast of a space shanty about 'freeing the thrusters' on my comms, the Subi skillfully maneuvered the Stardust Drifter through a narrow opening between a hydroponic supply vessel and a particularly flamboyant pleasure barge. The ship vibrated, the engines roared in glorious protest, and for a magnificent, fleeting instant, we were liberated. Primary Trade Lane Delta-Nine stretched before us. The irritation of the jam evaporated, replaced by an intoxicating euphoria more potent than any synthesised space brew. The unknown beckoned, and we were once again, gloriously, hurtling towards it.
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Every stop is a story - Darwin to Adelaide River The Adelaide River Rupture The storm did not break over the Adelaide River plains; rather, reality tore open along the track. To the left, the familiar Top End landscape clung fiercely to its quiet melancholy. A lone gum tree stood sentinel over the charred scrub and dry earth, its leaves catching the last bruised light of a brooding wet-season sky. In the hollow below, the old fictional homestead crouched beside the rutted dirt road, enduring the heavy stillness that always settles before the atmosphere ruptures. Then came the tear. It began not with thunder, but with an overwhelming, luminous heat that shredded the grey overcast into molten ribbons. You could feel the vortex of raw energy sweeping through radiant ambers, searing cadmium oranges, and blinding celestial whites. The vortex descended like a folded dimension brushing against the earth. Where the atmospheric rift touched the ground, the landscape blurred into fierce gestura...
The infected touching antiquity Do you feel divinity when you touch antiquity? Metamodernist art by JJFBbennett Stand before a marble relic, and you find yourself at the threshold of contact. The museum enforces detachment. Do you feel the decay and contamination your hands carry? But what happens when your flesh touches ancient stone? To reach out is an act of somatic friction. Our mortal residue, sebaceous oils and living warmth, ruptures the sterile illusion of the untainted idol. We drag the pristine monument down into the mess of human mortality. Yet, the instinct to touch is an innate longing for connection. Laying bare skin against ancient form collapses millennia, sparking a euphoric link to what came before. Touch restores, renews, and opens an otherworldly portal beyond everyday perception. Touching antiquity infects its distant divinity with our decay, but in that very transgression, it bridges the void—granting the seeker genuine transport into transcendent awe. Marks...
JJFBbennett travels to Taiwan Navigating the Metamodern City: Reflections from Taiwan What happens when ancient culture, vertical hyper-modernity, and raw street-level life collide through a traveller's lens? In my short video series exploring Taiwan—from the rain-slicked avenues of Taipei to the summit of Taipei 101 and the quiet contemplation of Liberty Square—travel becomes more than just sightseeing. It becomes an inquiry into metamodernism, architecture, art, and the everyday rituals that anchor our lives. Get ready for some serious wanderlust! I'm diving into JJFBbennett's incredible adventures as he explored Taiwan's stunning islands. Follow along on a journey that captures everything from Taipei's bustling energy to the historic elegance of the Chiang Kai-shek Memorial. Experience the trip through a vibrant travel photo library and an exciting video playlist that brings the entire destination to life. It’s an unforgettable look at Taiwan that will hav...
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