21 November 2015
Bonfire night 2015
I have always loved fire. Not in a creepy, psycho "I'm gonna burn your house down" sort of way, but in a deep sort of way. I find it so complex and immaterial, dreamlike; what is it? It isn't a solid, a liquid a gas... not a thing! And yet I can see it and it could literally tear my flesh if I touched it. How is that possible? The way it flickers and is constantly changing, moving and morphing into something new consistently, so fast that my eyes doubt what it sees, is beautiful. It spits minuscule stars into the air above me and dances beneath them. It clings to wood to survive, and yet everything it clings to it destroys: mutilating it into something dishevelled and irreparable. I can almost see its desperation as it struggles to reach up and stay alit while it crushes and tears apart the very thing it needs to survive. Until all that's left is embers and black charcoal, devestated and broken, too hot to touch. stars, glistening yet abandoned by the flames, among a dark sky.