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The Lights in the Deep Dark

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The Lights in the Deep Dark  Night Lights and the Peripheral Sentinel What do you see when driving at night? Travel Sketches by metamodernist artist JJFBbennett The night swallows the road long before the mind settles into the rhythm of the drive. Out here, where the bitumen cuts a narrow ribbon through the vast dark of the Australian bush , the headlamps carve out only the immediate seconds ahead—a tunnel of white glare against an ocean of shadow. Yet, vision at night is never truly confined to what sits directly in the beams. In the peripheral sweep, just beyond the hard edge of the headlights where the eucalyptus canopy dissolves into the black sky, the landscape breathes with another kind of presence. Reflected softly on the wet glass of the side window, the world folds inward and outward at once. The rain-streaked pane catches the amber glow of the dashboard and smears it against the deep gloom outside, blurring the boundary between the cabin and the scrub. And there, riding ...

Waiting for Azrael

 

Waiting for Azrael

The air in the room doesn't move; it simply presses


She has long since stopped looking at the clock, realising that time here isn't a sequence, but a weight. The waiting room has fractured, the mundane reality of plastic chairs and linoleum tiling splintering into a jagged, stained-glass fever dream. High-pitched frequencies of burning red and sickly yellow vibrate against the walls, echoing the frantic noise of a mind that has run out of distractions.

She pulls her legs inward and forms a tight knot, dressed in indigo and bruised purple. She tries to find a purpose in her world that refuses to stand still. Every sharp edge of colour feels like a spiritual siege, a sensory reminder that her momentum has been forcibly halted.

There is no use in pacing. There is no use in resisting the authoritative hand of the "in-between." To survive this stall, she must stop fighting the current and become part of the stagnant water. She buries her face, lets the jagged light wash over her, and does the only thing left to do.

She breathes. She waits. She waits for the shards to align once more.









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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