hand in hand we stare straight forward, hopeful, ignoring the teeth at our backs. they can’t catch us if we just keep running, so we run. it’s an escape that becomes an adventure, bolting to reach new pieces of God’s wonder, hidden in the dusk colours of mountains and small desert towns. our creator was a sculptor. a painter. a model railway enthusiast on a scale probably never seen since.

our track criss-crosses a web over the land long after we forget why we ran. return visits dilute and parody those beautiful first moments and a craving for new visions takes us over. we scheme to add pieces of ourselves to the places we’ve made, we take it on ourselves to improve on creation. we bring bright dreams and leave them as gilt, we hide secrets and stars for each other and hunt like easter to find them. we draw the whole world into our artwork. a shrine to escape, to us and the joy of our discoveries.

and now you’re gone. well. it just doesn’t seem important any more. these things we made are just things without their beauty reflected by your… words are too cheap to convey, and anyway you’re gone, along with all these things soon. you can probably see the smoke rising behind me. they’re still back there somewhere, stalking. i wonder if they’ll survive all this fire.



Rockingham, Australia

  • Artist
  • Artwork Comments 2

Artist's Description

this is for master power, who told me to write something.

Artwork Comments

  • Empress
  • Damian
desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait
desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait

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