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Australian Horror One

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Australian Horror One The Lost Soldier to an Empire of Bone and Ash Under the unsparing glare of a white-hot sky, the horror does not lurk in the shadows—it bakes into the earth's surface itself. This work reimagines Australian Gothic through a visceral, speculative dread, where the landscape is not merely hostile, but an active, devouring force that refuses to let the past rot in peace. The horror is elemental and corporeal: human history grafted directly into ancient geology. Flesh has not decayed; it has calcified into red Tanami clay, oxidized stone, and petrified khaki cotton. The intrusion of human technology—the corroded copper telegraph wire coiled into sinew, the thick glass insulators staring blindly as unblinking eyes—suggests a brutal, botched metamorphosis. It is the physical manifestation of an unspoken colonial and wartime trauma, where the forgotten dead are subsumed, weaponized, and regurgitated by the country they sought to cross. Standing stranded on a melting hi...
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My Flight to China

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My Flight to China

The transition from the static concrete of that waiting room to the pressurised cabin of this jetliner changes the entire physics of my wait. I’m no longer pacing floors or slouching into plastic seats; I've been sealed inside a capsule, and soon to be hurtling through the sky toward China. Now that I'm finally buckled in, my restlessness hasn't disappeared, but at least I’ll soon gain altitude.

I look around and can see exactly how this emotional shift plays out in other lives. There is an initial sense of order and quiet relief. I see the neat rows of seats, the soft symmetry of the aisle, and the steady, reassuring presence of the flight attendant, offering the illusion of control. The ceiling washes into soft, atmospheric blues and teals. I imagine the sky outside. I can feel the collective breath of a hundred passengers all transitioning into the same forced pause. For a moment, my world feels structured, clean, and neatly aligned.

I know the psychological reality of this long-haul travel will take over. Contained flight transforms my state of presence as the hours begin to blur. The orderly cabin will completely dissolve into a fluid, swirling psychological landscape. The ceiling will no longer be a structural roof. It will transform into a heavy, churning cloud of deep teals and bruised indigos, pressing down on all of me as if cotton wool.


My Flight to China - turmoil









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. 

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Copyright

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

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