THE COLLECTED WRITTEN WORKS OF RIVER HUNT
THE COLLECTED WRITTEN WORKS OF RIVER HUNT
Non-sensical Consumerism Look around. Where once stood lofty trees and natures skin, now stand concrete monuments to the greatest of uncivilisations. Progress they call it, but where are we progressing to? We seem to have lost our way at some point, or perhaps we've never truely known our route. What sense is there in a world where drugs and fast food are a way of life? We have lost what it is to be human, prefering instead to consume micro-chips at an ever increasing rate. There is no salvation to the horror we have created. As a society we have laid the deepest of foundations, holding steady the tenants of non-sensical consumerism. River Hunt, December 2007. About Artists An artist can no longer seek to destroy the world around them, as we are at a point in world history where there is truely nothing of value left to destroy. The artist must instead destroy themselves and effect change upon the world from the inside-out. Why search for an image from the outside, when it is awaiting rescue inside? I am an artist, my media is my consciousness. I project disturbing visions onto the walls of my cell. Freedom is a reality where the walls are washed clean, and the visions stop. I cannot choose the visions that I project only the intensity with which I view them. It is truly horrific when I wake up to find that the images were not imaginary, but instead represent the external world pixel for pixel. This is not an end, there is hope, but hope that is disregarded because it wears no halloween mask. The movie plays on, frame after frame of pre-processed fear, colour adjusted death and microwavable meals. I sit and stare, out beyond the walls into figments of my imagination, but it can't last. There is no escape from an intellectual prison we have constructed as our homes. Our fingerprints taint every surface, evidence that despite our screams, it's a reality of our creation. These paper walls distort and deform before our eyes, following us like shadows cast from stone. There's not much left to love in a paper thin world, where we are so scared of being human, that we spend money we don't have, on new and more entertaining ways to pretend we are absorbtion machines. We are human though, albeit so drained of emotion that we prefer to dillute what we do have left, to varnish our insatiable projection walls. I am human, but for how long? Save yourselves, I have a ticket to the projection room, where I intend to view my own death. River Hunt, December 2007. From Birth to Death We are all here for a specific reason. We must find out what that is, before it's too late. Fate, purpose, meaning, moments. What would you do if you only had 1 minute to live? PAUSE, go to story, PAUSE, go to end scene. Isn't is strange how you can daydream and travel the world in the time it takes for your eyes to blink. Have you ever wondered if you actually have more influence over the world around you than you've been conditioned to believe? If you stare at something with enough concentration can you make it move, if only by a fraction? What if we really do possess these abilities that we've stumbled upon from time to time but discounted as mere cooincidence or luck? What if these abilities are hidden from us by ourselves? Are we ready to handle the truth about humanities devolution? What if we once had these abilities, but nature worked tirelessly to stop us from discovering them. What if these abilities would ultimately lead to our own destruction. If you could see into the future, and saw your own death minutes previous, would you really be saved? What if the only thing stopping us discovering the true scope of our innate abilities was our belief? What if we had one moment to change the destiny of every thing and everyone we knew and loved? How do you share a belief that sounds crazy? If you had but one moment to decide the fate of others, would you fall along side them? Time is the one thing we all have in common. It moves forward unrelenting, unapologetically, and unstoppable. We are swept away by it, immersed in it, defined by it. Our experience of it is fluid, sometimes quicker than others, sometimes slowly like a snail, frame by frame, a moment that changes our lives. In the end, all of this sujective perception does nothing to alter the fact that we have grown older. We look on, hoping that the wave of time brings us new hope and new beginnings. A moment is defined as a section of time that relates to a specific event or occurance. Life, on reflection, is remembered as a series of moments held loosely together on a timeline. How can we evolve, if evolution is ultimately our demise? Stop. Time ticks on, but we pause, motionless in thought. Start. We catch back up with the world, spinning, moving, interacting. Stop. We ponder an image frozen like ice in our minds. We are no longer part of the world, but in some other space. The space of dreams. Start. the image is shattered by a unexpected conversation, and we are dragged up to speed, the world never ceases to murmur, yet we can take leave of it although few choose to do so. Gravity keeps us grounded, time keeps us chasing. What if we no longer chased cars? If we stopped to think not about the past or endless futures, but of the present. Of everything that has ever been or ever will be, simultaneously and without effort. Would death be of concern? Stop. From birth to death and everything after, we take to our throne at the center of the universe, discontented and rushed for all of our days. Stop. This is not an end. River Hunt, November 2007. The Dynamic Human Being The future is not written. Possibilities exist, but remain possibilities until choices are made. A choice changes the probability of the world around us. Nature is probability. We are energy conversion machines. Things are never created or destroyed, only changed. Change. We attempt to simplify nature, to something understandable, something with a purpose that involves us. We are not part of the purpose, we are instead a mechanism to achieve that purpose. We facilitate the evolution of nature. We are an intrinsic part of natures dance, inseperable yet irrelevant to the outcome. Choice is a psychological mechanism we use to delude ourselves of our own importance. We don't have the right to conquer nature, as it would be ourselves ultimately that we conquer. We are an expression of nature, not a component of nature. River Hunt, August 2007. Wash Away We made new years resolutions in the sand but the sea just washed them away. No memory, no meaning, we lived for the moment without fear or reprise. The future looked on with expectancy as we looked out to sea, walking the shoreline like children again. We once believed in something magical and free. Little did we know we would find it in our dreams. Never stop dreaming, never stop loving, never stop believing in me, and I'll never stop believing in you. River Hunt, January 2007.
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