Sensory Perception

While on a day trip this past Wednesday to go meet the author of the book of photographs mentioned back in December on the traces left by the First World War, my unfailing truffle-dog nose led me straight to an abandoned sprawling industrial complex on the outskirts of the city of Sens shortly after leaving the highway, which looked like it had been the scene of a war. The gates (of hell) were wide open on that frigid morning, so I walked right in, quickly realizing I'd stepped into another dimension. Nearly all accessible surfaces had been painted in one way or another. I'd expect such scenes in North Philadelphia, or Camden, New Jersey... but in Sens, France ? It was a case of sensory overload, no pun intended. Under a blazing blue winter sky...

.

Brilliant sunlight was shining through broken windows of buildings where any useful item had been scavenged
.

.

Visions of the end of the world were dancing in my brain... Easter Island sculptures transplanted; there too catastrophe had transpired.

.

This cultural comment was like something out of a bad Cheech and Chong movie... I can hear their voices, "You smoke the grass?" "Yeah man, let's smoke da grass."

.

Friends of the devil had been this way before me... I liked the ivy growing in through broken windows above this wall which had leaves shaped like little triangular devil's tails.

.