a year ago
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Posted On: September 4th 2025, 04:57 pm
THE WASTELAND
Room 10: The Blinds
When I first visited this place, my attention was immediately drawn to an old canopy outside. When we leave a place and do not return — when seasons cycle, years drift by, and time seems to pause —the things left behind begin to change. They decay, dissolve, crumble to dust, and drift freely. But can they also transform at a deeper level — from inert matter into a form of inner life? Will they follow nature’s logic? Will they grow? A slow metamorphosis unfolds — complexity arising from repetition, beauty emerging from neglect. Here, decay is not death; it is re-patterning.
Room 10: The Blinds
When I first visited this place, my attention was immediately drawn to an old canopy outside. When we leave a place and do not return — when seasons cycle, years drift by, and time seems to pause —the things left behind begin to change. They decay, dissolve, crumble to dust, and drift freely. But can they also transform at a deeper level — from inert matter into a form of inner life? Will they follow nature’s logic? Will they grow? A slow metamorphosis unfolds — complexity arising from repetition, beauty emerging from neglect. Here, decay is not death; it is re-patterning.
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