the non benefits of borders

Just two new images on Ebay this weekend (though plenty of unsold ones from previous weeks so feel free to take a look.) 

skeleton of flower - in colour

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Out of the whole island one specimen was chosen for numerous inscrutable reasons.  Dissected, photographed, placed under a microscope, photographed again, each part labelled, each purpose defined, eventually broken down into smaller and smaller pieces - they tested it's reactions to different chemicals and tested it's reactions to fire, water and frost.  All results were logged into the central database.  Essential knowledge for the completion of colonization.

control suffuse convex miles

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It's important to analyze all the minute details from a distance before arrival.  Understand the new environment.  The new place looks like a writhing mess of snakes locked into copulation.  A vast accumulation of mould growing on fast forward.   The place certainly needs to be cultivated and put into nice organized meaningful blocks.  Life can't be anything unless it's made logical, rational and real.  Above all it's best to be civilised.  Tidy and straightlined.  Heaven forbid anything should have creases on it.  We must remain flat and print like.  In tidy box frames and mount board.  Content can no longer be important.  Everything is about borders and containment.  Careful not to spill.  All surfaces must remain clean.  All walls must look normal.

Suspended over an illusion of purpose

the eye of Malformus

A4

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My ideal self is impossible and unthinkable.  I having spoken many times about becoming a pure ball of edgeless light but the reality of what I actually want to be is something much more complex.  It twists and changes into different shapes all the time, to the point where the ideal me doesn't even enter into my head anymore and when it does it isn't even a concept anymore just a word with no thought attached.  

No shape and no way of being attained.  

My brain, body and all other confinements can't catch up with the entity I'd like to become, as a result I become tangled and malformed.  Like Malformus (pictured above).

noted volcanic non illusion

envelope sized

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So I end up short sighted and viewing my situation with no future.  Like falling down endless stairs with the same predictable well measured bumps and bruises.   At the end of all of this I'm declining into something much worse.  

I can resign myself to this and enjoy routines but at the core of all of this apparent sameness there are actually changes happening slowly (and quickly).  This leads towards optimism - thoughts of the future.  That all my efforts over all this time have been towards building something greater than myself.  The eye of Malformus blinking out of sight from itself.  It learns once again to construct the future and stop dwelling in decay.  New stages and new graphics with new depth.

The eternity of the never changing present stops screeching and turns into the real life of possibilities.  Things actually matter. 

 paper boat suspended over blood letters

envelope sized

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These things could always go bad again.  That's the problem with mutable living.  How is it possible to enjoy ''the present moment'' if the present moment is never ending and full of stabbing textures?  At some point your going to fall and falter.  This is why I can't afford to live my life myopically in the present moment.  An ideal to work towards is important even if it is unattainable.  I can make it real for me at least. 

Am I still deluded if I'm aware I'm deluded?  

Or 

Am I deluded about being deluded?