Different World; Pt. 1

 

        

    More often that not I find myself swimming in the daunting yet marvelous sea of questions I have about the condition of our own minds. A particular crest that beguiles me amongst these waves is that of our ability to forge narratives where none seemingly exist. Thus, my fascination for macro-photography. When minutiae of nature's architecture are revealed to me, my mind contrives stories within these new ecosystems or metropolises and fills them with new life; I see a Different World.

    One such alien habitat is the subject of what I have pictured above: a dried thistle. Its dancing offshoots spawning from a blackened core appear to me like dystopian skyscrapers slithering from the shadowed urban jungle below, in search of sunlight, clean air, and space. Although unintentional, the scene, to me, also imbues a certain anxious anticipation. A ball at the edge of a precipice; a tightly wound spring moments away from extending: I wait eagerly to see if the thistle would break apart from its thin stalk and be carried away with the wind. It is as if the inhabitants of this dystopia live on giant, spherical ship- a mobile city- and are preparing for yet another migration, away from the persistent and impending evil that continues to pursue them.