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05/27/2020
Floyd
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Floyd
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The meadows of the Wild Wrigley
I had lost my way, which could be disastrous in this area after the abundant rainfall of early summer. To get into the tall grasses here did not only mean to leave civilization, for a little boy like me the meadows of the Wild Wrigley were the outskirts of reality. His lands seemed immeasurable, everything was indiscriminate, as if he simply did not care and neither I nor any of my friends had ever seen him. So myriad myths and legends grew around the Wild Wrigley The rain had been over for a while already, the mist was steaming out of the warmed earth and the light, which was abundant above the vault of gigantic greenery, illuminated the big grasses unreal, immersed the world of Wild Wrigley in fresh sparkle, as if one was under water, only that under meadow seemed more appropriate. All this was in ethereal mist, meandering for miles around billions of microscopic miniature drops of mint oil, dancing to thousands with every touch of the leaves, cool as coastal mist, a wonderful light humidor, a meadow in dew, grasses full of green goose bumps.
For a few hours I let myself drift in the dew, intoxicated by the picture, archaic and raw, the mint seemed to disappear, the grass seemed to smoke gently, I already thought Wrigley was the origin and although I thought I saw him before me, with a shaggy beard, hair in strands, I didn't run away from him, like incense, vetiver and patchouli, balsamic, calming and already... i began to love a ghost image of thoughts, like Pygmalion **
With its green freshness, ethereal mint and its proximity to the damp grass at the beginning, "Undergrowth" walks a fine line between 'photorealism' and 'surrealism'. The mint is so fresh that I can understand the picture of the toothpaste below. Nevertheless, the natural meadow developed on my skin, which gets rid of the mint in the further course of time, before more and more vetiver and patchoulip plants of the smokier kind grow out of its moist soil and create the impression of balsamic incense in this constellation. "Undergrowth" projects with me for about five to maximum six hours moderately to very close and could be a picture for the summer.
(With thanks to Yatagan and Scented Man)
For a few hours I let myself drift in the dew, intoxicated by the picture, archaic and raw, the mint seemed to disappear, the grass seemed to smoke gently, I already thought Wrigley was the origin and although I thought I saw him before me, with a shaggy beard, hair in strands, I didn't run away from him, like incense, vetiver and patchouli, balsamic, calming and already... i began to love a ghost image of thoughts, like Pygmalion **
With its green freshness, ethereal mint and its proximity to the damp grass at the beginning, "Undergrowth" walks a fine line between 'photorealism' and 'surrealism'. The mint is so fresh that I can understand the picture of the toothpaste below. Nevertheless, the natural meadow developed on my skin, which gets rid of the mint in the further course of time, before more and more vetiver and patchoulip plants of the smokier kind grow out of its moist soil and create the impression of balsamic incense in this constellation. "Undergrowth" projects with me for about five to maximum six hours moderately to very close and could be a picture for the summer.
(With thanks to Yatagan and Scented Man)
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