deadpan
sincerity

We rolled in slightly worse for wear. Our own black on black Rorschach tests were rolled up and sticking out the end of my bag. Thankfully the sharp sticks had been disposed of & I was no longer punctuating every stray thought with them. Not that it seemed to matter much at the time.

I took the flag down for a trial or tribulation depending on which side of the sweep you were on & then stroked the art for a bit. Thankfully it wasn’t one of those galleries where that sort of thing is considered inadvisable. In-between the trading of inanities & brief asides taken to raise eyebrows at theatre ushers we stumbled through half-held debates, punctuated by prolonged gazes & swift pacing to the other side of the room.

You can construct a valid position along the following lines: That there is an untrue beauty in exegesis as it serves to extinguish the last lingering certainties, especially when it becomes the mortar for superstructured waterfalls cascading down walls. Whether you’d want to & how relevant this might be is up to you.

Someone once said that isms are there to distract people from opacity. I am reminded of this only now though. At the time all manner of crawling figures were holding on desperately as their idols collapsed onto turtles all the way down. Extermination is most often an active endeavour, but sometimes it’s passivity with a wink.

Let’s not get too carried away here though. Destruction leads to denial when it’s implied, and that’s no bad thing. Once upon a tomorrow we took that for granted. Under the circumstances a curt reminder was somewhat appropriate. The feeling seemed mutual. Nothing moved however long you stared at it, which only lent the violence an air of susceptibility.

Occasionally, when confronted by endless white on black, I have the tendency to search for allegory in the spaces. This however, wasn’t one of those parties. Narrative is one of those cruel beasts unbecoming of hats, it likes the sense of possibility found in permissiveness. This is just as true in pictures as it is in politics.

Doubly so when the prey is peering round corners.

“You forget yourself good sir”. Quite so.

This is the point at which we insert a good last joke – a summatorial sartorial editorial to imply closure. Given the preceding, this would be an inappropriate use of an opportunity. Declined.

The Empire Never Ended exists for a while more at the Tricycle. It was created by Mr Brindley. We enjoyed it.

Love regards etc.

P.S. Worth a read: Exegesis – (New) Working Parameters