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The infected touching antiquity

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  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...
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LSL 60

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At the age of 60, I thought life would be much easier to understand In the '80s, I was painting art inspired by Fauvist, Cobra and Art Brut artists I wanted my art to be raw, powerful and primitive I was investigating our psychological and physical barriers as they failed to protect I wanted to paint self entrapment where sickness and resistance hid any possibility of outwardly demonstrating wellness. 
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Hole in the Wall: Park and Shop

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What has been visioned as a cleanly planned future. With all boxes ticked. Harmonious with nature, functional and efficient. The promises that life is good. Living the advertisement. Park your car under a tree and shop.
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Godin Equilibrium

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I woke up this morning and I felt a pain in my brain. It was like all had changed and all will continue to change. Nothing was left as the same. And in this remorse I was the only one who  knew. I just can't  believe it,   no-one would believe  in what I had to say. So I yelled hard and long about all the injustices that has occurred. I stomped my feet hard to the ground. I punched through  the air to sporn my stance of knowing . I spat deceit at society. But no one knew for me and no-one wanted the goodness within my heart. I became increasing alone. In this life I can grasp the future. I see visions of what's it's to be. Messages  decrypt and whisper their intent to me. I cannot find my way to you. The more I warn the more you ignore me. The greater the detail the less you want to know. I began to hate you. Where can I cry with my love watching over me? When can I celebrate  when everything I state eventually unravels int...
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