A Mythology of Scat
The more you look the more you see. It’s as if Jackson Pollock is still alive and wandering the streets with a pot of white and blue paint splashing randomly as he goes. Bird droppings are ubiquitous and seemingly banal but when you stop and look, really look, a pareidolic transformation begins, rather like the forms we imagine in clouds.
Processing the images reveals colours and detail not obvious at first glance. A kind of alchemy unveils mythical beasts, Neolithic Giacometti or Frink like figures (one can never have enough artist analogies) and mythical beasts of land, sea and air.
It is startling how people see such different things and once you see it, you can’t un-see it. I am almost affronted when someone can’t see what I see and have completely different theories invisible to me. But there are of course no wrong answers in this kind of Rorschach exercise. Who knows how the neurones will fire? Exercise for the imagination.
These images have not been altered by AI and the detritus is shown as found. They
are all taken in one London park but not for want of trying elsewhere such as wetlands and leafy central parks. I don’t know why my park is best. The people there think I’m mad.
