Tuesday, May 10, 2011
The impersonal geometry of personal spaces; anonymous planes abut and intersect, almost haughty in their indifference to the clutter of human life. Sometimes you wake in the night and gain an inkling of these facts, a somnambulant understanding of the inhuman world, but in falling back asleep before stirring again in the human morning such knowledge is submerged in the dream of your waking life. Your bedroom is a room in your home, but the house in-itself is a very different thing, a strange construction, exceeding the sensical order of utility. It knows you are dreaming, and watches you go about the business of your day with mute tongue and vacant eyes.
(by fredhale)

The impersonal geometry of personal spaces; anonymous planes abut and intersect, almost haughty in their indifference to the clutter of human life. Sometimes you wake in the night and gain an inkling of these facts, a somnambulant understanding of the inhuman world, but in falling back asleep before stirring again in the human morning such knowledge is submerged in the dream of your waking life. Your bedroom is a room in your home, but the house in-itself is a very different thing, a strange construction, exceeding the sensical order of utility. It knows you are dreaming, and watches you go about the business of your day with mute tongue and vacant eyes.

(by fredhale)

Notes

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