Welcome to the planet of the Scrapes. Everything that you know has crumbled and your monuments have returned to the Earth. The Metropolis is no more. The pavement is cracked with tree roots pulsing like veins through hills that never end. This is the future you never predicted even when its icy grip tugged at your wrist. There is a real beauty to it though...the victory of nature over corruption...the sound of trees rustling against rusted industry...the cry of birds above the din of ceaseless traffic...a post-industrial caterwaul from the darkest corners of your memory. Our place is dark, but there are cracks of light through the canopy and a different kind of life thrives here. The air is warm but the wind is cold and the horizon never ends. A landscape both familiar and forgotten...ancient yet regenerative. There are no masters here so close your eyes and forget everything you remember.
(Photo by David Collins. www.blackboxphotography.com.au)
| |
No comments:
Post a Comment