My art is something I create in the moment. I don’t know what that says about me. Who I am as an artist is probably not what you’d expect. Artists, as you know of, put pencil to paper. Paint to canvas. But this kind of art is different. Welcome to my world. Photography. Writing. Making a mess. It’s my art.
Don’t listen to a word they say. These Cloud Dwellers aren’t what they say they are. They appear to be these sweet, innocent creatures. Don’t let their looks deceive you.
They talk about Laputa, their land in the clouds, where you can be free. Detached from the world, safe, protected, above all. It’s the antonym of safe.
You can never go back to your loved ones, for once you leave to enter Laputa, your soul vanishes like it was never there. Like you never existed.
Your body is lifeless. It’s burnt, so your soul can never return. You can never come back. You’re trapped.
What they don’t say is why they’re there. Laputa is, or was, purgatory, the place in between, the place where lost souls go to wander. The leader of Laputa, she did some bad things while living. She needs souls in purgatory to leave. She’s using us. THEY’RE using us. They’re her mindless slaves.
You can only hide for so long in the clouds. Once they’ve been blown, they’re gone. It only takes a shift in wind and your temporary shelter has been uncovered.
Don’t listen to them. Don’t believe them.
It will be your downfall.
Remember, they aren’t angels. They’re your demise.
The Old Sheriff Court
105 Brunswick Street
Glasgow G1 1TF
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