Listen. I just landed on your planet from another galaxy where we see in different colors. I kid you not. I snatched up the above-pictured human body from someplace you called the Andes. That is me inside his body the two of us heading east somewhere north of Trinity site in the Jornada del Muerto desert in New Mexico where I was sent to inquire on the detonation there a while ago which was the first disruption in the Æther. It's a self-portrait of us - notice the gadget in my hand, ehem, his hand. No worries. He is okay and we co-exist in a manner you shall all someday. All good.
So as soon as I reported back to my boss in Tannhäuser Gate, I had some free space and time to spare and the first thing that got me to thinking is I saw how you're screwing up your beautiful world and so I set out to study you one individual at a time to try to understand why. Because where I come from the ground you stand on means everything because we know our habitat and our body are a single continuum being. As you shall experience in time, the tonality and the wavelength, the energy and the mass of that relationship will have transcended your experience the moment you allow yourself to become viscerally aware of the full measure of its infinite depth. That is how I can best explain it in your onomatopoeic language. I know - it sounds highfalutin. Sorry about that. But look at the pretty pictures I am making for you - a cleaner explanation will manifest itself the moment you buy one and stare at it during meditation. I promise you.
So with the series Labyrinths, I snuck up and hid somewhere in Grand Central Station in New York City and this is what you look like through my eyes when you are walking across that hall. How beings so brightly colored and so electric with life are not yet aware of themselves and their relationship to habitat boggles this alien's mind. Just thought you ought to see you for yourself, though. Now, to the question of trying to understand you a quarter of a million portraits later, I am slowly discovering something about myself instead - go figure.
Anyhoo. Do come in this here mine bohio from time to time to see me "painting" you with a camera exactly how "I see" you." There is something wondrous inside all of you, and you are this close of reaching out with a finger to rip ever so gently the very fabric of your reality I've bit my hands many times lest I reach over and nudge you forward a bit into your next leap of faith. But perhaps that is why I was really sent here. To try to invoke with these and future series what remains just outside of the hands' grasp of the twenty-six letters of your alphabet.
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Oye hombre! I do not know you, as such, but your existence and mine are interconnected in this plane. Your alien-friend may know a way to bend space-time that might create a bridge for us to compare notes about this experience.
I have this hunger of memory that creates a longing to fill in the gaps. The family I know is very small. It feels like we are this little thing set apart; rootless, exposed. It’s like I can see this great tree, with it’s massive branches and prolific growth but really only able to get a sense of its broad contours.
Anyway, this is part of the intro of a life story I might write one day.
I gotta run and get to daddying. I’m gonna check out more of your work. Happy Saturday!