"Labyrinth" by Darwin

This large, cascading web was woven late in the night, under the haze of the fire's eastbound smoke.  Weaving it made me feel timeless.  Hip-pop and drunken slurs drifted through my ears as I dipped over and under, around and and between the five trees.

Usually that kind of crap bothers me:  I hate the injustice of rampant alcohol consumption, I hate the racism behind Hip-pop.  But as I wove, the rhythmic movement of my elbows and fingers soothed me, and I felt wise like the spider that wove the story of reality.  The space that sits quietly to the side of the high-traffic path to campus became a labyrinth of solace.  The blue yarn glowed in the hazy damp air.  Looking out from the inside of the web was like looking through fire: everything was vibrating at a minutely perceptible frequency.

In class, I think some humans felt stimulated by the piece.  I think this owes to the vibrancy of the light blue color, the texture and delicacy of the yarn, and the scale of the web relatively.  I noticed that some felt compelled to look at it from new angles; to try to look up at the sky through it; to use it as a lens through which to renew the world.

We came up with some great ideas that inspire me to continue making large-scale webs.  The integration of sound, possibly in the story of dreams is one idea.  Another is regarding material-- creating something elastic that could be stretched and played with, or a reliably sturdy weave that people could lay on.  Also, wouldn't it be fun to look up into the sky and watch the clouds pass, or snow fall through a big, lofty dream-catcher?

-Darwin