Sometimes I used
to draw lines, over-arching one another. They were like half-ovals. It had been
through some accident that I noticed these lines created a depth perception.
The idea was that the lines cold make then a cave, - some cave- or passageway.
Much later I thought about the lines not as representative of a womb or
something like it. Was the cave a way back to something- some gnosis or being-
or was it a liminal place that led to something- something else unknown
(question mark). In any event- maybe that is why so many photographs are taken
that are akin to those original lines. The long series of back-garages with
their own little asphalt street, - sitting under the sun and cloud and blue
sky. The rain at night, again on a street,- long and dark- lit then not by the
morning star,- but by electrical lights,- headlights,- all parts of modernity
and the own peculiar atmosphere it can make next to ancient artifacts and
movements like the moon, night, and storm. So there they are- many and many- a
theme of some sort repeating it. Long- going somewhere, - but where exactly
(question mark). That is the mystery of it I guess...
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