gutter gods ,

they tell me to grow tall

see me stutter and trudge

through their city, through their mud

and like buildings or trees,

tower and shrink away,

movement, monument,

caught small, blown large;

I’m dreaming and walking,

of roads as rivers.

We are fictive in our memories, inventing narratives, and re-imaging this world based on our experiences of it. Through the lens of a messy collection of myth fragments, we relate these memories to art media, seeing our experiences reflected in more truth, even if it is biased, always craving rationale closer to image/pattern consciousness than the miscommunication and banality of reality.

World building in a daydream, grounding images in place with motif, experimenting with a vision of city life. Here where the land is younger than God, and still alive, and you weave a life in awe of many small deities slinking through the crowds. If gods/mythos belong to a place and a people, what happens to them when the place changes through urbanisation, and the people change through globalisation?