Willful Aspirations
Propel us
Up
Where we believe
The unknown geometries
Flatten back
To a binary tessellation
Of
Black and white
Up past
The dead virgin satellites
Up
Past where
No one weeps
For the
Black and white truth.
Up here dwells
The impossible will
Of
Certainty over uncertainty
Living where
The rules of will
Meet
The un-rule of wont
There is really
No upside.
September 2017
I wanted to make the clouds have a movement and a light that defied the perceived rules of nature and the artistically prescribed ‘rules of transcribing nature’.
No hand of God to move these clouds, no gravitational pull, no movement of earth. Ungodly, unknowable, filled with satellites, and the deaded strangely painted eyes of unobtainable beauty.