Strange Textures

There lies a realm bathed in ethereal hues, where shimmering beings with iridescent wings dance amidst floating islands of luminescent clouds. Time, a mere illusion, loses its grip in this otherworldly domain, as cosmic melodies weave through the air, harmonizing with the pulse of distant stars. Exotic creatures, part flora and part constellations, roam freely, emanating enchanting scents and melo...

Woven from moonbeams and whispers of ancient stars, it stretched far into the cosmic expanse. As I slipped my hand inside, the glove transformed into a portal to unseen dimensions. I ventured through celestial tapestries, brushing against the fabric of time itself. Nebulas caressed my fingertips, while galaxies swirled around my wrist. Planets whispered secrets into my palm, revealing the mysterie...

A peculiar ritual commenced. Wizards and alchemists gathered in a hidden enclave, clutching golden anvils and chanting incantations. A mystical forge ignited, fuelled by ancient manuscripts and cosmic dust. From the molten core, curious creatures emerged, half-metal and half-fantasy. Gargoyles with wings of silver, unicorns with hooves of gold, and centaurs adorned with shimmering gemstones. The a...

A clandestine carnival took residence. Tiny acrobats swung from artery to artery, their laughter echoing through the chambers. Synchronized fireworks erupted with each beat, painting the veins with kaleidoscopic colours. Whirling carousels of emotions spun wild, releasing confetti of love and longing. Cotton candy clouds of hope floated above, raining sweet aspirations upon the soul. The tightrope...

The moon donned a top hat and tap-danced across the sky, casting a polka-dot glow upon the dreamy city streets. Shadows morphed into mischievous creatures, playing hide-and-seek with the lampposts, while fireflies conducted symphonies of flickering lights. The stars, feeling adventurous, traded places with the streetlights, causing celestial confusion. Sidewalks whispered ancient tales of forgotte...

I stumbled upon a troupe of levitating mermaids, harmonizing discordant lullabies with invisible octopuses. Each step I took shifted the sands into grinning clown faces, their noses honking with mischievous glee. As I ventured deeper, time dissolved, and the moon turned into a misshapen watermelon, juggling stars while reciting poetry in Martian dialects. Glowing jellyfish whispered ancient secret...

When you’re tired, and you’re holding on. A great stillness descends upon you, a lateral choice avoiding the lifts and opening the diagonals for play. So welcome. Oo vath welcome. All that you have been through, past, present, and future. This is the only moment. A change of hue. Finding a new blue. Suddenly all is in tune. The single Sun is eclipsed by the Moon.

We play hide and seek with a celestial body. The lack of heat has solidified planes of atmosphere. Rays of light appear in strange places, reflected and refracted at odd angles. Coming and going as the old Sun evades us. There is beauty in the stillness, in the quiet, in the cold. But that freezing must thaw, we need flow, and movement, and warmth. Time for new Suns…

The comfort of coming home offset with the fear that it is no longer home. That either you or it has changed. Or that this is just an approximation and you are lost still. Which would be worse? To be home or to be not home, never home? It might depend on who you travel with. Maybe home is internal anyway, in such a strange multiverse of possibility, maybe home is just the pretend point of existenc...

Behind space. Under the vortex. Time is particularised. You bathe in the flow, grasping for moments to hold onto, swimming for familiar shores. Gross movement yields little, you navigate through thought, pure intention, and subtle pressures. The tiniest movement of tone and timbre, sustained effort keeps you at the edge of real space and time. Forever is here, while you might not be.

What if the gateway between worlds could be harnessed through mystical beasts? The Rainbow Horse, majestic multi-hued shire type with a mane that can be stroked and toyed with. Soul programming for traversing the great divides. Climb on. Become. Ready for the trip, you are the rainbow waterfall horse.

The incoming transmission from an alternative ancient Egypt was puzzling and surprising. A robot Pharaoh of obvious power and majesty detailed their transformation. Gorgeous and practical hard shell layers replaced with shockingly weak , ugly flesh. Angular, bold gears, elegant wiring, efficient mechanics becoming liquids, vessels, organs. A first biological organism for their world setting the tr...

You can’t admit it. How close you might be to breaking. Beyond order, beyond coherence, there is still a pattern, something that can be made sense of. If you realised how fragile the walls were that hold the realities together would you embrace a little more chaos in general? Could you exist without walls, pounding forth with your own rhythm?

We are drones, silently propelled above the beautiful decay of urban wastelands, cityscapes populated by husks of former people, and semi-formless vehicles. Reporting back to each other what we witness. Divorced from our surroundings, huddling our mechanical consciousnesses together to find meaning and purpose in our community of machines.

If time didn’t exist, would we need to create it? What sort of machine could wind the universal clocks and set them running? A vast clockwork driven by stream and producing beams of time, moving the underlying gloop of reality to generate an illusion of movement and change. Forcing now to create history and bring some sort of future into being. A machine of heat, lies, and misunderstandings.

We love to dance, but the journey is hard. The cloisters are beautifully vaulted and the stained glass casts an ethereal glow that matches unbound contemplation. They make it hard to stay in one plane of existence. We pass through the thoughts of Bernini, St Augustine, and Theresa of Avila. We are grace. We are one.

An imagined ladder, step by step leading down into the past. Rungs above fade into nothingness. If you climb down far enough, can you reach back and be where you were? Can you ascend back to the present? What might you bring back, and what will you carry into the future? If we’re going to do this, I think I want an escalator at the very least.

This building haunts me. Or do I haunt the building? It’s difficult to keep track of who and what I am, what I’m doing. There are others here. Or are they other Me’s? With little sense of self the will to act is subsumed. What happens is what happens. How can I know if caused anything, if I acted at all? Perhaps I am an emergent phenomena, resting awareness of what is rather than separate from my...

Sure, having the basic recipe and ingredients is one thing. But when you start to apply heat who knows exactly what will happen? If we were talking about food, a chef or a baker, maybe. But we’re talking about interdimensional proto-physics. Cooking with the original ingredients of the vortex behind reality. What mistakes we will make! How the worlds will dance!

Montane ecosystem calling. Can you hear me? This is my voice. It might be hard to understand. It rolls down and swirls, bouncing off rocks, echoing and eddying to a loud, complex, cacophony, like saying everything all at once. Can you hear? Lentic ecosystem here, receiving you loud and clear Montane. It takes time to translate though – are you still there?

The foundation of differing realities is understanding. If each reality has a voice, how coherent can they sound together? If separated, harmony might not exist, or appear only through chance, by accident, or with serendipity. However, if connected, the flow of information will either create combined voices which could contain deliberate dissonance. Still beautiful.

In an earlier universe, reality was a colouring in book. We roamed the blank pages and the line drawings until a nice landscape caught our attention. We got our pens and spray cans and crayons and got to work. Haphazard and messy. Vibrant colours went over the lines. We splodged ourselves and blended into the environment and went exploring.

Start with the pulse, feel for the universal fit in the rhythm. Breathe into construction. Build with purpose and will. Let multi-coloured light pick out corners and curves as you summon powers to birth your design into a reality. Hold it. Work with the feedback rather than distorting or destroying your creation. Send it into the world of matter.

Sitting, watching the green. Red thoughts on my mind. The land subtly shifts and rumbles. Perceptible vibrations course up through feet and around the body. Anticipation, the land lifts gradually and we rise slowly at first. Then faster. Red to green, through blue turning to black. Wind and cloud gives way to stars. Where are we going? Where are we going?

Sitting in the cold, swaying. Watching the stars dim and pink slowly blink on wave tops, growing to orange as the land washes lazily against a semi-static sea. The boats glide in smelling of salt and fish. Dangerous unloading, hard work and exhaustion hover within reach of a hearty home.