Tuesday, September 26, 2006

Man in a Blue Box
by Francis Bacon



art quick write
The man inside the box has a frightened look. Possibly scared of what has happened or is in the near future. Inside of this box, bound to this chair for any number of reasons. From inside he is screaming at the viewer and himself. He has made a grave mistake. He had a chance to leave this place but somewhere deep in his past, an event is eternal.

[On the night of July 3, 1954 Tommy and his
brother stole their grandmother's car. The
journey was only meant to be a joy ride.]

Inside the box vertical and horizontal lines contrast with his blurred face. His tie may be on a bit tight. Even though he is there with other watching, his forsaken soul is ready to move on. Shades of blues spill out of his body like a constant drip from a rusty facet. The puddle gathers around the box. If the bright orange gas does not kill him, he will drown when the blue liquid fills his lungs. What would a lungs feel like just before they burst? Loud shrieks, piercing my flesh and hitting the eardrum just right so the tones drop out for several moments. The volume cane be felt in the chest and it becomes hard to breathe. The weight of bad decisions crushes ribs. The simple lies of the box trap him as if in a cage. A light source from beneath brightens him up as if he is there for a show. His shoulder blurs and fades to his right due to convulsion like twitching. Small red veins darken and burst under the skin to reveal natures blood atlas. His mouth is darker than an endless hole. Teeth fragile and rotting, already translucent. Colors smear from the forehead like a migrane suggesting it will stay awhile, the hazed portion of his body that has faded away is lost memories.

Is this an electric chair, gas chamber, toll booth, office space or just a perch to view a baseball game?

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