This is the third in a series of experiments with doing Word Art in abstract patterns with, well, rather abstract words to go with them.
Waves of shining silver water caress a blue sand beach as you stand facing the horizon.
The sun is high and bright in a sky with the palest cast of pink.
You step into the water and feel your feet sink into the soft sand.
You kick clouds up as you progress.
The waves are light and offer no resistance so you continue forward until the waters close over your head.
As the waters embrace your body, you find that breathing is not necessary.
Sunlight shimmers overhead, fractured in a dancing web of light by the surface of the water above you.
Your feet find stone, ragged but level enough to tread upon.
A school of fish the color and translucency of amethyst rush past like a startled flock of pigeons.
The ragged stone progresses to tile and you find a road that leads deeper into the waters.
The road ends in a broad plaza surrounding a building of blue stone with a tall entryway flanked by columns.
You see no windows, but as you pass between the columns into the interior, you see that glassless skylights have been cut in the pointed roof.
It is a single room within.
Black and white mosaic tiles cover the floor.
At the far end of the room is an arched alcove enclosing a statue of a robed woman with blindfolded face and hands outstretched, hands that bear eyes upon the palms that face you.
“Speak!” a voice commands, and while the statue remains motionless, the voice clearly rings from it.
You say nothing, as words require breath, and you have taken none in these depths.
“Speak!” the voice cries out once more.
You remain where you stand in silence.
“Speak!” comes the third shout and this time you hold up your hands, palms faced forward in the manner of the statue and gently incline your head in a slow, deliberate nod.
“Well said!” the voice replies and you allow your hands to fall and turn to exit the way you came.
The road you arrived on no longer leads directly back towards the point of beginning, but now forks into two.
The mosaic floor now extends to where you stand and continues down each pathway.
The black and white tiles all pattern themselves to pure black down in one direction and pure white down the other.
The road of black tile is flanked by smooth white columns and the road of white tile has a pair of gleaming black columns in the same way.
You follow each path with your eye, trying to discern where they lead and while you can’t be absolutely sure, it seems to you that both roads curve in such a way that they eventually lead to the same spot.
Did I mention I’ve been reading a lot of Jung lately? Can ya tell?
I neglected to take a photograph of the framed result because I promptly took it down to WonderRoot to donate to the art auction at their Bomb the Moon event. I may have to go down just so I can get a picture of it.
Prints of this work are not available.
The original is not for sale.