flickering images coming into focus...
I
the old open-air cinema stands alone, isolated in the desert sand beyond the failing port. sandstone amphitheatre, mosaic tiles along the floor and vast, canvas screen billowing in the gentle breeze. with the full moon rising overhead the projector begins to click and whir. flashes of light across the screen begin to take the shape of black and white reels exposing scenes of forgotten times. faces of the long since departed. frozen expressions and ambigous gestures. desert air twists gently around us as we take our seats for the duration. the ruinous port, endless desert and vast sky becoming extensions of the frame. a giant film set, limitless and expanding. the film climbs high into the night air and across the sky, sailing above the city by the ocean. casting frames upon the rooftops, churches, piazzas and across the old town. images dancing amidst the flames and burning timbers.
heavy rains fall across the rooftops, spilling into gutters, overflowing from stormdrains along the curbsides, over cobbles, across the marketplace, upon the crumbling spire. we rest in the solace of the attic as the water beats down above us. our eyes heavy in the half-light. warmly distorted tones from the old portable cassette player fill the room as the images of the dreaming slowly start to come in. we row between the sunken buildings in a small coracle, gently buffeted by the dips and swells of the rainwater around us, tramlines and streetlamps but a few feet above us. the sky filled with a feint luminosity, a green-orange glow to warm the scene. gentle warm mists embrace distant street corners as a low crackling sound combined with tape-hiss like gently soothing waves reverberates through the otherwise silent scene. we pause to let our fingers trail in the warm water and watch the streets stretch out far below, submerged in the deep tides.
III
a thousand stars circle the heavens. trailing red and blue, green and amber. the rooftops of the city a myriad geometry trying to describe itself in all directions. each room in the city a vestibule, a portal between worlds. silent communion transpiring in every location simultaneously. the whole city is connected and breathing a gentle passage, repeating across the sky, falling away within itself. a fadng dream stretching out into the distance, a cloud column rising up and away from the world. time stretches itself out as the fires burn brighter and brighter. amber flames turning red, blue, green. the backstreets and alleyways between the buildings of the old town beginning to shift and alter, to converge and come apart, to change direction, to fall away into wild ellipse. the uncertain days beckoning nights of forgetting. the old machinery slowly begins to fail. a timid path drawn out in front of the weary traveller. a distant, fleeting whisp of a dream now lost within the growing imbalance of the failing structures.
IV
at dawn we reached the silent island. the hot sun beginning to rise and casting psychedelic hues across the trailing cloudbanks which sailed gently above us. jade, turquoise, ocre, golden light shapes in contrast to the azure blue steadily building across the vast sky. the silent island beckoned our vessel forwards, the continued droning of the engines now a soundtrack to the coastline revealing itself before us. tranquil beaches and rocky shores, grasslands and wooded regions, ruined fortifications of ancient cultures, previous inhabitants now long since gone away. our vessel passed slowly into the old port, the gentle waves buffeting against the stone walls, the few structures still standing around the dilapidated scene casting images of distant times, fading memories. we stepped off our vessel and paced onto the sandy shore, turning to cast our gaze back towards the ocean, and rest awhile as we watched the ship motor its way back out into the blue drifts.
excerpts from 'central hotel eden', a work in progress...
keep safe
jamesreindeer
leipzig germany
16th november 2014
