(Note: This is the eighth installment in a series of stories published in conjunction with the traveling project ‘Altered States’ which opened November 2016 and is still on the move. For Part One, go here. For Part Two, go…
altered states
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I continue to drive down the highways and back roads, as if they are the pages of a book, reading America one town at a time.
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This is the sixth installment in a series of stories published by artist Hills Snyder in conjunction with his traveling project ‘Altered States’ which opened November 2016 and is still on the move.
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The sky grows so very suddenly dark. The air inside the truck seemed to be sucked out and replaced by a vacuum made of utter silence.
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It’s an interesting undertaking, to set out on what you are doing without knowing what it is.
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The unseen possibility lies like a snake that has swallowed a yard stick, pointing due north as would a prophecy, or the lost needle of a compass.
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It’s a true paradox: objects and events get larger under indirect observation, as if memory and imagination were themselves the sixth sense.
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The introduction of a new travelogue serial narrative by San Antonio artist Hills Snyder.