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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.

Sunday, June 5, 2011

ןcђηєαυ†αє






Well practised in the secrets of the lonely thickets, having learnt about the highland haunts, Ichneutae, with cloven hooves that spread under load, were mercurial amidst the roaring blaze and leaders into the forest of pine.
- Faun Tales from Carthage

As for the myths of satyr and faun, these are not the tales we tell ourselves. Postdeluvial Greeks and Romans knew only our exiles and anomalies. They knew wanderers and loners who came by chance or were drawn beyond the northern pines to the outland swamps and then swallowed up and all but lost. Of these, most scattered, keeping to their ways. If any settled at all they settled on the Apennine Peninsula; there to chase and bother the indigenous nymph. Some thrilled, charmed and gained notoriety.
Pan was amongst them for a time.
To us, these rough goats are like aberrant streams off a river lost in a forest.

1 comment:

Den said...

Well Mad Plumber I presume?! You may have owed the Savendi, and if ye did consider it repayed and then some for this is all a work of uplifting inspiration. Genius can not be too strong a word.
Beautiful. Great. Intimidating.
I love it