#smxaeternus

[Black Screen]

2019. A stroll on Sunday through the woods is mirrored by a scroll through social media, where blossom and the greenness of plant life is as ubiquitous as a fancy latte, and signifies similar – moments treasured, a spiritual glee, a display of healthful joy.

social networks and apps such as Facebook, Instagram and Snapchat distribute images in the tens of billions every year. The newsfeed is a single mixture of everything, an unbearable simultaneity of being.

[Picture]

We do everything fast. In our current, global view, faster is better. A world overwhelmed.

Things move, change in time. Change and diversification of the things that enter it, and on this account, different qualities at different times; The characteristics change over time.

Things appear, alter, fade, loose attributes, get lost.

[Picture]

We experience our world with five senses that guide us, but for the most part, we learn about the past with only three. We have become adept at preserving transient matters in audio, visual, and tactile forms, but rarely do we ever think to capture a whiff of the scents that swirl around us.

Everyone has their own special Objects. Precious Objects with their specific scent and personal associations about them, anchored in time and place. A scent, A memory one wishes one could preserve.

With our eyes closed, our ears stopped, feet and hands bound, lips sealed, we still identify, years later and from a thousand other smells, the undergrowth of such and such a place in a particular season and time or objects of our values. [1]

It constitutes the perfection of natural beauty and unites the true to the semblance of things present to the nose. [2] A nature that is rich, voluptuous, and fragrant. [3]

[Picture]

Dimmed Hall. A forest of projected lights. Free moves.

Warmth. Black. Genericness flickers in lights. Red. White, Yellow.

[Video]

Pieces placed. Mapped. Captured. Stored.

Precious pieces.

A flower. A hoodie. A candle. A cheese.

[Picture]

A hatch opens. Swallows.

Screams, Whispers, Silences.  

[Picture]

One after the other items hit the floor. Soft ground. Intact Objects.

[Picture]

Hands touch, eyes observe, tongues taste. Precious objects.

From things to attributes. The comprised in each of these matters, dissolves.

T-shirt. Cotton. Yellow. Soft.

Sculpture. Wax. Black. Cube. rough.

Cheese. Milk. White. Circular. Smooth.

No time.

[Picture]

Smells shout all directions. A fountain. A multitude. Each cell, a characteristic facet.

An encounter of precious ingredients. They converse, infuse, crepitate and demand attention.

Characteristics. The refused of time. The trash of time.

Introducing the now into the later. Unaltered - the way it just presented itself.

[Picture]

Smell. Form reappears, invariant or recurrent, harmonies - transformed, stable across variations, specificity countersigned by aroma.

Each vessel unique.  A precious piece condensed. The fleeting atmosphere captured.

A bouquet of abundance. Colorful, wild, diverse.[4]

[Picture]

Benches to sit down on. A voice calls one up.

An opening in the desk. Warm air surrounds the body. A capsule.

[Picture]

Darkness. A glimpse of sparkling reflections on the floor. Heavy curtain holds space to the ground.

Black chambers.

[Black screen]

Hands hold a capsule. Exuberance.

Rest.

The proximity of the walls. Lungs exhale. Back reclines.

Fingers open the lid. Scent fills the volume.

The immense beach is smooth and tranquil. [5] a wave brakes all to pieces out at sea and lays a great white tablecloth of foam all the way to the shore, as if the marine gods are to dine off it. [6] The widening branches of a calm lagoon, alternately purple and pale green, as the evening clouds or twilight sky. [7] The calm sound of a running girl. The joyous little cloud of sand leaps tumultuously under her feet. Water trickles through her fleet sandals, [8] her tresses toss down on her ivory shoulders.[9]

[1] Serres_TFS

[2] Holt__Literary _Sources _of _Art _History

[3] [5] [8] Hugo__Les_Miserables

[4] Alessandro Michele

[6] [7] Ruskin__The_Stones_of_Venice