Harris Webergmurals from the LA creation room and so on. pretty blakean, these two. with clouds of projected dawn being spooled up into Kant’s spinning orb. counter-clockwise.
you won’t see any ichthyosaurus, pterodactyls or proboscideans here. you may have to go elsewhere and self-consciously crane your neck a bit. look back through the rows of sleepy witnesses. I didn’t post any of Minerva Tiechert’s murals either, though they’re my favorites.
over here is the garden room.
a riparian area where terraculture and aquaculture converge and a small swan paddles around the water feature. as she approaches the light-switch, does she sense its presence occupying a more robust and material plane of existence? intersections of various dimensions, the electric current running through? or just the dangling willow playing tricks on her?
mammals nostalgically fulfill prophecy in the foreground.
a fawn looking back under low hanging fruit in the sappy light. here is innocence preserved and fermenting, with no opposable thumbs for fruit-picking.
into the world-room
a flaming sword brandished from just off-screen evicts first actors into the thorny, phallic landscape of monument valley. this first frontier stretches out eastward over the alkali badlands of the west.
watch out for dirt bikers.
Edward Grigware
3 comments:
all i will be able to think about next time is dirt bikers.
Man I love that temple, it's like being in a Cecil B. Demille movie. Except the Celestial room which (sorry die hard LA templars) is dullsville to the max. Maybe its just that the whole thing (in contrast to the vibrancy of the other rooms) is done in dusty rose, perhaps the most vomitous color known to man (it only appeared after the fall).
I'm not sure, but I think you're not supposed to take pictures in the temple.
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