Celebrating this Summer Solstice with a look back at a summer day spent on 'la plage' at the Franco-Spanish border beach town of Henday.
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A highlighted line in my copy of Joyce's Finnegans Wake came to mind while editing these two photos I took while strolling around Seoul back in the spring of 2017, leading me to a delightfully fleeting Joycean juxtaposition. Almost as fleeting as reflected glints of light dancing long the river. "And still the light moves long the river. And stiller the merman ply their keg. Its pith is full. The way is free. Their lot is cast." "Thoughts in time and out of season
The Hitchhiker Stood by the side of the road And leveled his thumb In the calm calculus of reason" -Jim Morisson Bryce Canyon, UT.
The Garden of Forking Hoodoos. “Imagined a labyrinth of labyrinths, a maze of mazes, a twisting, turning, ever-widening labyrinth that contained both the past and future and somehow implied the stars... I felt myself for an indefinite while, the abstract perceiver of the world." - JLB, The Garden of Forking Paths Very fine Cylindropuntia spines
unwind after a long, sun-baked dry Arizona desert day. We jumped through one of those swirly Sedona portals and were vortexed into a weird, red infra-echo inter-world. Intermittent space between reverberating sounds suspended us above a proto-echoing silence. As we followed the sunrise trail a balloon lifted itself up out of an inferential vermilion void. Then another. And an another. And the nuclear sun bounced its squiggly messenger waves off the grand rugged Grandfather Rocks. Message received (at light speed), Sedona. Spacetime's speedy roll slowed down to a total standstill. Electrons and planetary heads stopped spinning. Nonplussed pupils paused and Khronos's majestic glacial quality seemed to melt at geological speed. Squiggly swigging Squiggles's chemical script.
"The summer we were gobbling all of Squiggles's white blotter, we'd time our doses to hit at sunset. We'd kick back on the coppery cliffs of Red rocks beneath a hunchbacked pine and watch the sun melt into an immense, resplendant sea. The sky stuck the total chord of the spectrum, from the crimson lump of the slipping orb through the violet haze of the canopy above. And to the east lay the distinct boundary where dusk stopped and evening began to sketch the uncertain hieroglyphs of the stars." - Erik Davis Boom 2018 was the typical life-rippling festival it normally is. The Dance Temple was a sustainable architectural marvel — a sacralized psy-trance dance space fully equipped with a surround-sound of vortexing Fibonacci geometry and high-fidelity sub and infransonic frequency distribution — it was a perfect, vibrating audio-visual space-place psychedelically designed to be explored with playful, hallucinatory precision and transcendental tribal movement.
On the opening day I stumbled upon an interesting electro-chemical sensory experiment while entranced in a lovely, other-worldly synaesthetic atmosphere. I began—for some reason or another—blinking rapidly while swaying my head in the familiar looping figure of the infinity symbol. I found great hypnotic joy in the rapid, rhythmic blinking and fluidly looping head movement. This simple, repetitive action amplified the notion of the film of life running on a reel—the reality reel, revealed—so to speak. I would turn my eyelid-powered stroboscope on and off from Ott on Day 2 to Braincell on Day 7. The experience of this joyous perceptual experiment urged me to further explore the slightly psychtropic stroboscopic topic. I first explored and played with the word phonetically. In fact, it inspired a verse in "Cyclopsian Octopodes." Following the word play, etymological curiosity ensued. The word stroboscope is derived from the Greek, strobos 'whirling' and skopein ‘look at.’ Interestingly, my head was doing just that: whirling; while my eyes were looking at their Dance Temple surroundings through different shutter speeds. I literally transformed myself into a human stroboscope. Talk about Boom being a transformational festival. Certain sonic instances
have the peculiar proclivity of sending intricate electrical signals rippling through the network of the nervous system —sometimes-- significantly altering subatomic position along the anatomical way. The lonely lunar loon is alone on the only lagoon on Saturn’s second smallest moon. A stroboscopic black and cobalt solar eclipse skip skeptical sensors of skeletal creatures on a curious twinkling winter in Neptune. Cyclopsian Octopodes clandestinely clone themselves on Pluto. Perpetually tripling nanometre tentacles fractal off their tentacles' tentacles producing hexagonal batches of peculiar chemicals. |
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