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Somewhere Gold Lives

by Amphitheatre

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1.
a missed step in sleep a dizzy pause a creak of a gate a dogs bark a sulphuric smell passing out through environments i move like a worm in the soil carriedin a pewter cup a verdant womb among roots in a low nest of my own limbs below a hill i look up to see children suddenly singing i see a great circle of flowers above them and a hole bore in graphic reality it's inner vision a crucifixion a pitiful sight in periphery christ is removed of his crown which is placed just above like some profane halo that dots my I all while the children lock hands and the wreath spins around the hole the children sing in stone meshes of evergreen each simple line is a web seen from the side in a trance and unbound in a song and unsung in a word and caught in a lung and in a bell unwrung in a sky of dunes in a scene of scars on a bleeding wing eclipsing mars a stained glass of the halo's eye in a saints mind x2 in a sense mine in a sense mine uncover the censor uncensor the censes my censer is empty a word unsung caught in a lung dropped from beneath the tip of a leaf in a saints mind x3 in a sense mine magnetize the fires burn the lyre to hear the strings pop invisible mind in a bee sting in a clasped hand spill the censer to cleanse the saint mix it with smoke or a mixture of paints circling round x5 behind the eye (follow me...) in a saints mind in a saints mind... I woke up confused knowing that even horizontal problems have their vertical sides was there more to this? I can't be sure I had to paint with the dull earth tones the colored fire vibrating along the rim of the hole where it was seen
2.
Pollen 06:32
a yellow shadow anti-body monograph errogenous and various eden's acid touching base

about

Tableau Vivant is an attempted recreation of a vision not a dream, being brought along by vertigo and other illness, maybe 3 years ago. The vision involved children, Christ, ee cummings, a large wreath, smells and sights that were much more than, as Mjr Briggs says, an accumulation of the days thoughts. More than I can assemble via song, but an attempt felt mandatory.

As we learn more about the virus ravaging the world, I looked toward the golden shadows of every year, Pollen, and weeks after recording, learn of its possible responsibility for further spread. The squealing squibs are microscoping into the element, and the original painting (seen bottom left of the art) incorporates actual particles.

credits

released July 18, 2021

Robt. — headtrauma, dizziness, duino channeling

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amphitheatre North Carolina

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