To Sea. See?

I fell upon this river of words while surfing the streams of video and I thought to myself, “this would look good with standing still sky text so the words have something to flow past and so I’m writing this and thinking of some great body of water carrying me along like words, or maybe some great body of words carrying me along like water. This then is the long, meaningless horizon line.
TurnipFish from Conor on Vimeo.

Setting Place

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Today’s dream: We are eating at some restaurant in an old industrial zone. They are tearing down the old factories that were built with beaux arts flourishes… ornaments and enormous clocks. The factories are from the steam era and have been jerry rigged with elaborate electric conduit that snake in black insulating rubber around the Greek Key meander. The whole area is being razed for a new development. We walk along the canal and come upon the shed where all the clocks are being disassembled. They are stacked up like tires and the carved stone frames lay around the floor and I think they must be worth a fortune, but they are only saving one of them (the largest) that they will some how work into the glass and the steel. Each of the clocks seems beautiful in it’s own way. “Sophie’s choice”, I think.