andromeda

I am in a place in america, its a very polluted place, next to a factory. It used to be next to an old farm, but the old farm is long gone. There is a funny smell in the air, and the air seems to be full of dust.

We meet an old chap, who tells us about the history of the place.

He tells me that the farm used to grow lots of fruit, and in particular, lots of apples. I get a sense of where some will be, and before he even has finished telling us where the old apple tree stands I am already wandering in the direction of it.

I see the old apple tree, littered with fruit around it, fallen from its not so long ago crop. No-one has been here in a long time. The apples as well as the whole area, are covered in dust, the pollution from the factory. We figure that we can wash the pollution off the apples or peel them so we pick a load to take back with us.

I am chatting to my dad, "I once said to someone, 'the concept doesn't do it for me' but then, I thought, its true, the idea can be very beautiful, but if it only remains as an idea without becoming real, it lacks something. Likewise, a beautiful object, no matter how well crafted, if it lacks its concept, it lacks context and true meaning, and again I loose interest. A good work of art needs both a good concept and needs to be well crafted, for it to last the test of time. This is why too much specialisation in art needs to be avoided as much as not enough specialisation. Its about finding a balance."


There is a picture on wall, a giant mandala, like a crop circle, spiralling out from the centre, many meters across. It consists of lots of blue squares, and electric coloured lines running out from the centre in all directions. A famous artist has painted it, someone like banksy, and they are still there adding the finishing touches to it. We are sat around watching the painting being finished, while a piece of music plays in the background. The music has been written to go with the painting, and since the painting is nearly finished, so to is the piece of music.

The sounds I hear are abstract, like the orb, travelling far out into space, echoes of a distant galaxy... The artist tells me that here lies andromeda - the painting he tells me, is also a map, and in the far right-hand corner of the painting lies the distant planet andromeda. The music is playing the sounds from this place.