screen of memory - shifting matrix


The Sentinel

On foot one often hears the rustle of dead leaves and fallen branches making you think someone or at least some large Thing is walking along side of you --- thankfully, only squirrels. Passing the corral and towards the work shop follow the curving worn path and you'll find It, the Sentinel that I believe guards the upper fields, looming ageless wisdom quite heroically.

The Sentinel, remnants of a long time passed, is the only thing that is erect in your immediate line of vision of where a family once called "home." Exploring, you'll find the well, numbers of fallen bricks and broken rock, allot of over grown brush. What I think of is the liminal space into this dreamlike field -- Dorothy lands in Oz and opens her bedroom door into full techno color -- look down and you'll find someone has made a simple symbol of a bow and arrow in cement and stone, studded by stone arrow heads of various shapes and sizes. What I thought was a hoax and indeed I questioned Mark on this -- wondering if he and his buddies possibly had enough time on their hands to sit around and whittle out arrow heads, planting them on the property for wanderers like me to find. No, it all turns out to be truth. The stone tablet came with the purchase of the acreage in spring of 2004. What he has been told and recited to me, "after a freshly tilled field, walk it slowly keeping your eyes peeled. Arrow heads are so numerous in these parts, you're sure to find one -- this is the land of the Osage."

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