When the realms of imagination were lost from Fênix, a furtive storyteller and Sorry, who fell out of the sky with her Subaru, were left behind. An electrical dystopia is on the way, and she is taking him to a sanctuary. It turned out that there was more in the sky than anyone expected, and a light rain of dead people has just fallen. Details of the artwork, which is part of the Selfie Exhibition, are given below.
The visitors from Nocturnia, the land
beyond the light of life, milled about
on the road, despite the Subaru’s
The scintillating brightness emitted by the living
is visible to the dead—I’d read that on the internet—
and the newcomers were drawn to Sorry.
They asked for photographs by her side,
she graciously accepted, and they handed me
their phones: a brand I wasn’t familiar with,
but they showed me where the button was.
Fascinating, don’t you think?
I moved on to Nocturnia when I was a very young.
I had no idea the luminiferous energy of life
would shine so brightly.
Marisol introduced herself and asked about me.
In my mind, I return to what can never change.
I sit at the bakelite table, sky blue woven;
flies are landing on my face with gentle caresses;
on the stove, bacon and eggs, tomatoes and smoke.
I don’t say I’m sorry, I never did.
Basalt winds on the listless shore,
always night and the excuses of the sun.
I kept her lost, waiting at the altar of my sacrifice.
A story of the raindrops until the sandstorm,
a story of goodbyes, until goodbye.
Marisol played with her phone. Is that the time?
My goodness, we have to get going.
Going where? I asked, and she stared at me.
I do apologize. My mistake.
I thought you were one of us.
The newcomers disappeared into the bushland
on their unknown quest, the sun
took to setting, and I asked Sorry
about this halfway place in the halfway light
between Fênix and Guarapuava,
about Nocturnia, and where did I belong?
It depends on your point of view.
The Subaru accelerated, a minor body part fell off,
and we journeyed onward to the Guarapuavan night.
Photo of Disintegrations of Icarus in the Selfie Exhibition at the tenfortyseven creative space in Sydney (detail above, click for full image). In the darkness, my reflection taking the photo is another selfie. About the work:
Steve has been aiming for the sun his whole life, and continuously failing to even come close. When he was a sick child, he wanted it under his pillow. Later, he tried to keep chunks of it in the laboratory with magnetically confined nuclear fusion experiments, and although he’s gone slightly troppo, he’s still searching for it. (Artwork made with VEE, his Visual Evolution Engine.)