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...
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Head in the Clouds Core Recalibration
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Head in the Clouds Core Recalibration
Waiting is never a passive loss of time; it is a mechanism of sorting. It is the process of letting the dust settle until you are left with nothing but a clear, unshakeable axis of focus. The void didn't swallow me. By staying fully present within the liminal space, the noise has finally been transformed into a signal, the doubt has crystallised into purpose, and my mind is completely recalibrated for whatever comes next.
And when, suddenly, the cabin vanishes, I rejoice. The metal hull, the rows of seats, the quiet murmurs of the other passengers, they have all dissolved as if outside the window.
My physical body is still cocooned in that cramped airline seat, but my mind has completely broken free. I’ve left the interior world behind and stepped directly out into the stratosphere.
Looking at this view, it’s as if I am no longer just travelling through the sky; I am becoming a part of it. The composition is split by a blinding, brilliant horizon line of gold and white light. Like a pure, energetic tear between the heavens and the earth. Below me, the tops of the clouds stretch out like a vast, frozen ocean of soft purples and deep, oceanic blues, holding the shadows of the world below. Above, the atmosphere thins into an ethereal, pale turquoise, a quiet void that feels completely untouched by human anxieties.
The fiery oranges and hot magentas that stalked me from the terminal lobby to the cabin floor are still here, but they’ve been completely transformed. They aren't representing internal friction or a racing mind anymore. Now, they are the literal colours of the dawn, painting the edges of the clouds with an intense, raw beauty. The chaotic energy has finally found its purpose. It’s no longer a riot; it’s a revelation.
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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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