The future is brutal. Or at least the architecture is. We love us some big landscape defining structures. It’s a reflection of us and our hopes for our place in the world -
The words echoed through Shiva’s head on repeat. Every time she glanced up at the walls that made up the vertical farms, she couldn’t help but think it. It was a thought she’d had for a while now, but had yet to find a place to put it down. Or someone to share it with.
Her little notebook, tucked into a pocket on her arm, remained studiously untouched. Rohan, her father, had given it to her with the hopes she would make use of it. He’d even explicitly told her to put every dream, every thought, every idea in it. But it remained, untouched by pen or pencil in her sleeve.
Shiva liked the notebook too much to sully it with what she considered frivolous thoughts. Yet the same ones returned time and again, asking to escape her skull. Her father even asked what new things she’d put down in the notebook. But she only ever said, “oh nothing important.”
Rohan had tried to laugh this off, but Shiva could see concern in his eyes. At first she mistook it for disappointment. But he continued to ask, smile and laugh. He never pried beyond that or tried to read from her notebook. He just wanted to know she had a way to express herself, a way to escape.
Today’s art is courtesy of Darren Bartley from Middlesborough, the United Kingdom.