fallen from grace, risen from man

Bring forward those who have fallen in despair. See the marks upon bodies that have crashed through the ceiling of dreams only to find themselves scarred upon the floor. Pull back the blanket of unreasonable deed and thought and shine a light into the cavernous darkness that exists. So often decisions are formed not from consequences but because of the attitude towards structure which is embodied in outcome. Such darkness and ruling haunts in the heavy metaphor leaving multiple questions. But what if the reality of redemption cannot be understood and as such, belongs to a realm other than this? And if that realm is available, will it delve too deeply into the darkness within, sinking into illusion and removing from reality? Perhaps there can be no questions and as such, no answers. States of ambiguity lie in the chasm, twisted, cut off and abandoned from their origin; as they scratch in the rubble and remnants of crystal layers they once inhabited, shards of divinity remain between shoulder blades, in muscle, tissue and vibration.

The fall from grace marks so indelibly, that it calls to question, who will provide passage to transcend the darkness? Could a judgement be made without any spotlight and is it necessary to experience the depths of living hell in order to appreciate its escape? Marked, scratched and darkened through fleshborne verdict, through satiation of desire and depravity unhinged, is it possible to raise and restore the divine within or is the illusion presented simply a step into narcissism? Are serpentine echoes threatening, dreamlike, whilst the ego hides within the last place one looks, itself? Or is this fall from grace the ultimate flag to consciousness, a call into each individual who dares to gaze within, revealing the primal or will it be the basis of determining the reason for existence itself?

Every creature harbours the divine. Its blueprint exists within each cell and those among us who once shone so much more brightly than imaginations allow, should indeed be permitted to reclaim their space. The deeper the starless mass crowds within the heart, the brighter the release of wings above visions when salvation is effected. Once in a dream, where wings were being stitched into the flesh of a fallen angel, there, reclamation of soul’s song announced its arrival and from shame was born beauty.

Predrag Pajdic in collaboration with Mathieu Miljavac
Featuring Sohrâb Chitan, Benjamin Gibert & Anthony Thévenoux
Commissioned for
Wrong Weather Gallery, Porto, Portugal, March 2013
With the live performance
The Myth Of Yearning Never Ends
by Predrag Pajdic with Anthony Thévenoux
and the original music score by Benjamin Gibert