Fabrika Hill


These are my first and final human words framed by the stars and
weaved by my choosing. It is a story that begins just as it would end; on a blank page. It is my Tabula Rasa. This is a world where there is nothing more than blackness of no end, the door into an unknown and yet a place into the everything that is too bright to see in clear purification. Perhaps it is a space waiting to be filled, or it could by definition be what signifies completeness, if there is ever such a thing.
I experienced myself removed from the pocket of Earth from which my body and mind had never moved beyond, and placed into this nowhere land. My mind told me that I had a body and that my eyes were open, but nothing could be seen, heard or felt. It was as if everything from myself was removed and turned into silent space.
All that existed around my fixed perception I could no longer possess. And yet the memory of the world I once knew remained intact, like the light of a dead star outliving its corpse.
Those that mean so much to me, my Mum and Dad, siblings, and the voices of friends and strangers that come and go, burned themselves under my phantom skin. Fear overcame my thoughts as I shuddered the notion that my companions were no-longer alive for me that they had become all but dust in the wind. I was returned to complete isolation. These emotions of love and hatred still surged as strong as it did when my heart was beating inside me. I could still smell the memories of my life on the polluted streets, in next doors compost heap, and from the shavings in my pencil case.
I could still feel the pangs of jealousies and happiness from loves lost and gained, from those moments of unsatisfied desires to the relieving times of peace on my grassy back watching the branches of old eucalyptus trees run their fingers along the back watered yard sky hearing my family from a distance laugh amongst each other in comfort at the dinner table.

As I began to meditate and question these changes made towards my whole life, the darkness took a new turn. A faint whisper of light just strong enough to be squinted at appeared in front of my eyes. In short time this white spot began to grow larger and neighbouring lights also emerged around its presence like a big bang in the form of a star cluster. The light around me expanded and magnified and began to perform a miracle that I took so much for granted; it began to reflect.
Like illuminating chisels it carved out my hands with Godlike precision, it polished my torso and released my feet from the darkness it was held within. Soon the light so effortlessly completed my body and moved on to continue its work for eternity.
Though I had now my body draped around my being, I remained lifeless. I could not feel nor move my body. No air entered my lungs and my heart was without a beat. I was a body of mind and soul floating in space without reason, without function, a cocoon clinging to branches of stars, a shell ripped away from its sea ground, dropped in a tourists plastic grocery bag, and delivered to another’s world of function and reason.
How strange the feeling was to see the lights before me intensify, to feel that I was no greater, (or perhaps in this life I could be just as significant) than a speck of dust drifting to a realm of another’s choosing.
What made me think that I was drifting in the first space? Perhaps I was fixed to one point in the universe that I could not move from and left only to watch everything orbit around and beyond me, just as I experienced in our families backyard.
The answer to this question was electrified to my nervous system. I felt colder and I began to feel that I was floating upwards towards the stars. ‘Perhaps this is what death must be like’, I thought to myself as I continued to move closer to the light.
But the pain that began to invade my body told me other wise. ‘Or perhaps this is Hell.’
This pain intensified, my chest felt iron pressing down against it. Now my lungs needed air so much so that I commanded my body to move its arms and legs up to the light breaking through the blue canopies in quicker motion.
As gravity and feeling re-entered my life I knew now that I was a foetus in the womb of the sea and that the light was from the sun plucking the surface and guiding me away from inevitable death.
My hunger for life grew stronger and stronger as I swam violently to the approaching waters surface. The sun became clearer and more beautiful than the last many thousand suns I have seen. It was my right hand that broke the water and caught the cool air that would return living voice. As my head followed the desperately stretched out hand, I opened my mouth like a shark to a defenceless prey, and engulfed the air with an implosive scream, as though a hand from nowhere smacked my lungs with a pain beyond language.
From a blank page to a living being I had once again become a body and soul. I was with my memories but strangely without a name. With this new world I entered it remained to be written. Yet for now I was thankful to be breathing again, to touch my body and to know it is being touched. As the pain left me and the lungs began to function normally, all I could do was cry in a fit of tears as I submitted my rebirth to the unsympathetic currents.
Life seems to require much less than a thunder strike to ignite your senses. In many ways it only takes one raindrop that journey’s down your forehead over your cheeks, across your dry charred lips and that earthly tear that clings to your chin and falls to your feet. Sometimes it takes that one-drop that wanted so much to hold onto you, to be caught in your hands so it could melt under your skin and give you life. Only when I opened my eyes to the single water bud falling in search for a home did I reveal my heart to the path that always lay before me. I am not just alive, but the whole world desires to put life into me.

Fabrika Hill


Joined May 2007

  • Artist
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Artist's Description

This work is simply the first draft of a prologue that will begin my first novel to be completed toward the end of this year.

Artwork Comments

  • kathibook
  • catherine walker
  • JRGarland
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