I noticed that one of my older posts, Surreal Thursday: Passion Fruit and Mushrooms , had popped up as a top post. So for this Surreal Thursday, I am revisiting the images through some digital reconstructed reality.
A screen capture of the post included some icons of recent blogs I have visited. They include the following posts (links open in new window/tab, make sure to visit and view the original compositions).
Four summers have past since that original post. Even our digital remains reflect that time ticks off the seconds, while we are caught up in whatever holds our attention at the moment, a flower, a photograph , or preparing a post for our blog. We think we are carving moments into permanence, while we are being twisted into new forms of self, like a flower becoming ripe fruit or a mushroom emerging from the the decay of a changing season.
lost here in summers-
past-petals fall quickly down,
twists of light remains
A gallery of some images from my blog, Implied Spaces. Implied Spaces is a term that derives from art and architecture. It has since expanded into the area of 3D modelling and the concept has implications for Mass Media, literature, sociology and other cultural studies. Creatively, it is the place where new and unexpected modes come into being. For example, the creation of the internet was first intended to serve as a means of connecting computers for research and military/security purposes. None of the original designers or first users could have conceived of blogs, Facebook, Twitter or any of the integrated social media and art forms that would come be generated and occupy the space now known as the Internet. Much in the same way that a corner in a room can become home of a spider web or the space between two paving stones becomes a niche for a plant to root, new mass media forms evolved in new spaces.
Clicking any of the images will take you to the original Implied Space post – they will open in a new tab.
So I went out two weekends ago to drop recycling at the depot. As I arrived, I noticed a group of people standing across the road and looking over in the direction of the parking area of the depot. Looking to the left, I saw a rather large bear on its hind legs looking into a bin – a bear bin buffet. After nodding in agreement with the onlookers, I turned the car around and watched. Not only did I not have my camera, I forgot the cellphone.
The bear proceeded to swoop up a blue bag of recyclables ( no doubt smelled great to a bear) with one paw and carry it over to the side, examining contents for treats. Realizing recycling was out of the question, I proceeded back home – get the camera and see if my daughter & wife would like to see a bear or spot me while I try to bin again.
Alas, my daughter was not up to travel, so I returned on my own. Upon arrival, the onlookers had already dispersed, and there was one vehicle in the parking area; the occupants were just finishing up their deposit. Can you see where this is going ?
I then proceeded to unload the plastics – after which, I went to the cardboard allocated bins ( note the above photo, carefully ) with my blue box full of offerings to the recycle gods. Having emptied box of the offerings (trees’ memories-leaves of packaged print), I looked between the bins. About six to eight feet behind the bins is a snow fence, now partially collapsed, weary with weather and awaiting a lengthy summer holiday. As it happens, there was also the bear in a cautious amble proceeding in my direction. Either my cardboard, or I smelled of interest – thank goodness I had no BBQ sauce upon my chin or lapel, then again a scent to a bear’s nose can be long lasting (they can zero in on a smell from miles away).
As you can imagine, I did the Olympic blue box sprint to the car. At such a time, One’s mind must be clear and calm. I fleetingly recalled that bears, like their dog cousins, can be attracted to fleeing creatures. My next thought was of Shakespeare and that memorable stage direction from The Winter’s Tale (Act III, Scene 3), “Exit pursued by a bear.” The study of Literature, and the The Bard in particular, can be of great comfort, helping one put one’s life into perspective.
What now follows is a sequence of shots depicting the ramble of a bear among the bins in B &W – insights into a bear’s decision process are revealed. Pardon shots through car window – lowering glass was an option, but then again there was the matter of the BBQ sauce.
Sniffing out the the facts on paper.
Withdrawing to achieve a better perspective – i.e. I’m outta here.
Bear exits – pursued by none.
Nature ambles in –
paws at our weak pretensions,
Note: For other Bear encounters see Of Bread and Bear