dream altar

Slowly rippling pinpricks of light among the expanding and contracting emptiness hover atop the moonlit pool. Clear and deep and wide. There are no fish within it and no insects fly above it for this is an ancient pool, older than life. In the early days of creation the pool had been filled from springs deep within the earth, and though it danced the dance of evaporation during the warmth and replenishment during the rains its essential form had never changed. As the sun receded behind the earth that evening the water slowly shifted from a light clear blue to a golden pink to something deep and cold, and when night began to breathe its secrets the effect became like liquid death. “I am the true ruler of this land” whispered night through the icy wind, “the daylight may come each morning in its joyful naivety but it does not realise it is merely an aberration of my law of darkness. Beyond the illusion of light I will always lie, waiting to return the world to emptiness.” The moonlit pool listened in silence. “Promise me you will not forget this when morning comes” said the night, and the moonlit pool thought it surely wouldn’t for how could one forget a truth so self evident... [full text available on exhibition website]