# regarding their duck headed dad two examples exist of the landscape in the blue room cube in which we're currently researching and developing one of faint grey mist the other of twilight the first is a continuous row of dim trees in the foreground behind cruel bare streaks of smeared forest black silent pools of light form themselves into a continuous river landscape seen through dense morning fog existential occlusions of dreaming half light clouds of memory float above a rough wooden table in which rests a book of lovingly translated italian poetry more pictorial and startling in style they stand alone at the edge of the forest aloof and mid victorian this exacting configuration of field and hedgerow somehow unmistakably endlandian half light and mazes the overall ambient mood tone color and tones of early half remembered autumn in a warm afternoon horizontal staggered late ploughed fields of yellow clay slowly rise towards shadowy borderlands to the north silent trees still in leaf orange and deep lcd green a pale bluish light meanwhile fades near a false 8bit electronic horizon the greater part of the sky /box filling with darkened wind blown clouds the whole landscape necessarily melancholic soaked with secret collective desire referential to obscure near future eras of lonely twilight misty isles of tepid legend a figure is perceptible under one tree at the right cloak held tight across the body leaning against the wind thrashing trees the figure who walks in and through this wild otherwise under researched unknown and unloved landscape is henry swanson you're close to understanding you'll neverquite bridge the silent gasping distance fly amber caught between scientific love and near future harmonic destiny // [[republic of bob contents | imaginary pastime republic of bob]]