Promenade Projection
5:15 pm
Original Date posted: Thu, 21 August 2003 09:38:39
Post: For you to fully understand this scene and situation, here are the following descriptional words. Alone. Warm. Suburbia. Midgets. Walk. So here I am between two rows of houses on a wander down a path between two plains of grass, going nowhere, admiring the day. Think of a pleasant garden fresh air smell and hold it. You should imagine this as if you see through my eyes. My eyes are your eyes. (Fancy going into a hypnosis session? Hop like a bunny my dear).Your imagination sees what I see. Think of it as a possible form of astral projection. I control where we shall look together. You look where I look. I shall emphasize the things I see that are important. You shall get caught up on the nonsense and miss the point. I walk at a brisk pace with little "bopping". During the process of this encounter I will not trip, fall or stumble; so do not fear for grazed knees. If you would like, you can imagine a surreal ambient atmosphere provided by a rhythmic and mystical composition. If you feel that it will add depth. Movies without music wouldn't be worth watching.
This is the part that feels like waking up, I am opening my eyes. Here we are on the path. We are midway and a white picket fence lies to the left of us, it's not a clean fence and the shrubbery will have drowned it in a couple of months if the climate pursues. It's part of a garden which is part of a house which is part of a terrace along which we will travel. To our right beyond the grass is a short two foot high wall which approaches us and cuts off the grass at an acute angle. It's made of that dark red ceramic which always looks old and shoddy. Atop are wood chips and a bush, I'm not botanically minded so I have no idea of its common name or its luxurious latin one. It has purple flowers and long dark leaves and there is lots of it. Before we set off, I am going to draw your attention to what lies at our feet. Im squatting now. Here we have a trail of ants, they are worker ants, slave ants, silky ants. These are the laborous unlucky ones that do not fly and impregnate at great heights. We are following one of the smaller ants as it struggles across the harsh concrete desert. Watch as it negotiates each small boulder, crevasse and cliff. See how it overcomes each problem with ease, take note of the speed it travels at, its path and the purpose.
And our friend is now gone; into the suburban everglades. May his dreams come true. We are leaving now, stand straight and place one foot forward. The journey has begun. Mind the ants and imagine them stopping to let you past, taking heed of your soul as it falls. I hope you do not suffer from motion sickness.
We are now making our way along the desert. If we turn our heads left we can see into the windows of the terrace. Some cotton curtains and decorative candles are our highlights. To our right we are wary of the bumble bee that nearly gets caught up in a well placed web. Past a row of shrubs and the end of the wall out of the guarded passage and up the hill towards the crescent junction. Some evergreens brush our arm as we walk and the concrete has evolved to tarmac. In the movies, you are given a split second of terror. A loud bang, a sudden appearance. A jump and a brief interruption in pulse. Now some instant relief and an unexplicable feel good feeling. There's a parked van ahead of us and a small pebbled drive way with an old corvette. We are examining it's fine leather interior and are disgusted by it's ghastly purple paintwork. The wheels have a negative offset and accordingly suit the colour. We judge and examine from the pavement the convertable ability and consider reason for such costly travelling bliss. Jump. Split terror second. If this were a movie you would be expecting your relief about now. Instead we feel our heart vigourously pumping, our brain considering consequence and circumstance. Blood rushing and remember to breathe. My interest in cars and your ecleptic music nulled our senses and we were nearly ready for those pearly gates. Still no relief, instead a self curse and disastrous thoughts of what could have been without Lady Luck. This time we safely cross the road, away from the parked van.
Onwards and upwards, continuing our course in no particular direction. Behind the tree line in front of us is an old railway where they used to carry coal to and fro. It's abandoned now with exception of the rabbits. I know this because a friend of a friend did an article for a newspaper. We have now broken free of terrace lines. On our right are detached houses with small cared for gardens and to our left is a main road and an unused bus shelter. Its protected by a hovering shadow from the neighbouring flora and fauna.We take this route at a slower pace, it being up hill and all. This time we watch the birds. I am neither botanical or ornothological. So I cannot be precise about the birds, Im guessing they were your regular sparrow, blackbird and magpie. I must apologise to those who wish to know more about such flying wonders, but this is neither the time nor the place, sun chapped shoulders are not desired. I am following the trajectory of a certain sparrow, swooping at eye level, gliding up into free air space and back down again. Watch how it pauses then dives, view it's pride and feel the majestic presence. Clear the midgets, clear the midgets. Permission granted, you are clear for landing. As it rises for its final approach it crosses the sun and we lose it in the glare.
Post: For you to fully understand this scene and situation, here are the following descriptional words. Alone. Warm. Suburbia. Midgets. Walk. So here I am between two rows of houses on a wander down a path between two plains of grass, going nowhere, admiring the day. Think of a pleasant garden fresh air smell and hold it. You should imagine this as if you see through my eyes. My eyes are your eyes. (Fancy going into a hypnosis session? Hop like a bunny my dear).Your imagination sees what I see. Think of it as a possible form of astral projection. I control where we shall look together. You look where I look. I shall emphasize the things I see that are important. You shall get caught up on the nonsense and miss the point. I walk at a brisk pace with little "bopping". During the process of this encounter I will not trip, fall or stumble; so do not fear for grazed knees. If you would like, you can imagine a surreal ambient atmosphere provided by a rhythmic and mystical composition. If you feel that it will add depth. Movies without music wouldn't be worth watching.
This is the part that feels like waking up, I am opening my eyes. Here we are on the path. We are midway and a white picket fence lies to the left of us, it's not a clean fence and the shrubbery will have drowned it in a couple of months if the climate pursues. It's part of a garden which is part of a house which is part of a terrace along which we will travel. To our right beyond the grass is a short two foot high wall which approaches us and cuts off the grass at an acute angle. It's made of that dark red ceramic which always looks old and shoddy. Atop are wood chips and a bush, I'm not botanically minded so I have no idea of its common name or its luxurious latin one. It has purple flowers and long dark leaves and there is lots of it. Before we set off, I am going to draw your attention to what lies at our feet. Im squatting now. Here we have a trail of ants, they are worker ants, slave ants, silky ants. These are the laborous unlucky ones that do not fly and impregnate at great heights. We are following one of the smaller ants as it struggles across the harsh concrete desert. Watch as it negotiates each small boulder, crevasse and cliff. See how it overcomes each problem with ease, take note of the speed it travels at, its path and the purpose.
And our friend is now gone; into the suburban everglades. May his dreams come true. We are leaving now, stand straight and place one foot forward. The journey has begun. Mind the ants and imagine them stopping to let you past, taking heed of your soul as it falls. I hope you do not suffer from motion sickness.
We are now making our way along the desert. If we turn our heads left we can see into the windows of the terrace. Some cotton curtains and decorative candles are our highlights. To our right we are wary of the bumble bee that nearly gets caught up in a well placed web. Past a row of shrubs and the end of the wall out of the guarded passage and up the hill towards the crescent junction. Some evergreens brush our arm as we walk and the concrete has evolved to tarmac. In the movies, you are given a split second of terror. A loud bang, a sudden appearance. A jump and a brief interruption in pulse. Now some instant relief and an unexplicable feel good feeling. There's a parked van ahead of us and a small pebbled drive way with an old corvette. We are examining it's fine leather interior and are disgusted by it's ghastly purple paintwork. The wheels have a negative offset and accordingly suit the colour. We judge and examine from the pavement the convertable ability and consider reason for such costly travelling bliss. Jump. Split terror second. If this were a movie you would be expecting your relief about now. Instead we feel our heart vigourously pumping, our brain considering consequence and circumstance. Blood rushing and remember to breathe. My interest in cars and your ecleptic music nulled our senses and we were nearly ready for those pearly gates. Still no relief, instead a self curse and disastrous thoughts of what could have been without Lady Luck. This time we safely cross the road, away from the parked van.
Onwards and upwards, continuing our course in no particular direction. Behind the tree line in front of us is an old railway where they used to carry coal to and fro. It's abandoned now with exception of the rabbits. I know this because a friend of a friend did an article for a newspaper. We have now broken free of terrace lines. On our right are detached houses with small cared for gardens and to our left is a main road and an unused bus shelter. Its protected by a hovering shadow from the neighbouring flora and fauna.We take this route at a slower pace, it being up hill and all. This time we watch the birds. I am neither botanical or ornothological. So I cannot be precise about the birds, Im guessing they were your regular sparrow, blackbird and magpie. I must apologise to those who wish to know more about such flying wonders, but this is neither the time nor the place, sun chapped shoulders are not desired. I am following the trajectory of a certain sparrow, swooping at eye level, gliding up into free air space and back down again. Watch how it pauses then dives, view it's pride and feel the majestic presence. Clear the midgets, clear the midgets. Permission granted, you are clear for landing. As it rises for its final approach it crosses the sun and we lose it in the glare.
Posted by FofR
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