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We have left the bunkers, fuelled up, and are to the savannah, to free roam for a time. The original forest is in the distance, Varosha Resort out there somewhere.

These places are a nexus of fragments and scattered remains. With its strange grasslands and nebulous island in-worlds, and nestled between savage and savant, the savannah is the ideal human environment. The fable bridges a gentle way across.


M. L. Darling intends this space as an opportunity to follow the veins of fable across a landscape with a simian commitment to an aesthetic of evolutionary dreaming.

Please join us.
Your contributions are welcome.

email: morpheusdrlng@gmail.com


My photo
Shape shifter in search of coordinates.

Monday, March 1, 2010

Dracula T-Shirt



"So I raised the lid and laid it back against the wall; and then I saw something which filled my very soul with horror. There lay the Count, but looking as if his youth had been half-renewed, for the white hair and moustache were changed to dark iron-grey; the cheeks were fuller and the white skin seemed ruby-red underneath; the mouth was redder than ever, for on the lips were gouts of fresh blood which trickled from the corners of the mouth and ran over the chin and neck. Even the deep, burning eyes seemed set amongst swollen flesh, for the lids and pouches underneath were bloated. It seemed as if the whole awful creature were simply gorged with blood; he lay like a filthy leech, exhausted with his repletion."

Jonathan Harker
in Bram Stoker's Dracula

1 comment:

Nigel Suckling said...

To study the vampire is to study our changing attitudes, beliefs and fears about dying and the dead; and although we spend much of our life determinedly not thinking of how or when it will end, such thoughts do of course inevitably and increasingly prey upon our minds as life moves along. We are all to some degree unable to resist the glowing, mesmeric gaze of the dark stranger at the window who is immune to this fear. We all sometimes feel the temptation to turn away from the sun and gaze into the dark navel of the night in the hope of finding there some redemption from our deepest fears.
- Nigel Suckling