Another brilliant piece from a GUNNAS WRITING MASTERCLASS writer
Once upon a time nothing mattered, nothing was small, nothing was large, nothing was same, nothing was different, nothing was right, nothing was wrong, nothing pretty, nothing ugly, no happiness, no sadness, no violence, no calm, no fuck you .. you fuck me, and no way all these things could dwell in the same time in one head poised to detonate like a suicide vest. This was long before we vacantly trailed our collective fingers in the earths’ dust for the last time, releasing an evolutionary seed nurtured by judgement. Our tongues cracked into action to decree who was in, and who was out and long dormant networks sparkled in our brains, creating and recreating swearing words and provocative metaphors to give blunt force to our reasoning. Millenniums later, on hearing the photographer’s brother was a freak of nature, the new owner of a country newspaper requested a special image be created. There’s a copy of his written demand and twelve grim photos in the paper’s archive. No one knows how, or by who the photographers giant sibling was co-opted, where the tiny man was found, whether money was exchanged or who decided to tuck the small man into the rear of giant’s trousers, where he was captured forever grimacing through the centre vent of an enormous tailcoat. It’s a juxtaposition that furrows the viewers brow in an effort to disassemble the small man from the frowning giants arse. I’m not sure it doesn’t matter?