"The future is a city of images."

I read this quote last summer. It was from a video installation at the New Museum of Apichatong Weeraesthakul's work. There were videos of boys riding on the backs of trucks on remote-seeming roads, dirt roads somewhere in Thailand. There was a village of people building this space craft from wood. The sky was museum warped weird video blue. They played soccer with the soccer ball on fire. It felt like watching some strangers at wit's crucial toll page- about to get out of this earth, gonna leave it to burn. I wanted to write about this sense but backwards. Not elated through possible exit- but from the perspective of someone who has chosen to remain and to respond. The sense is elated through a potential to become the future's image. To move what can be moved (now, a cursor, tomorrow, a stick) along. I forgot about the guns in the films. The boys sometimes had hard guns and thick dark hair but faces so calm I wondered how

Red lantern light to the East. Car battery seepage in water West. Another video would be just music. Music of cold fitted picture stretched to breaking. Start at the cul-de-sac and work out, back into the forest that still stands somehow between housing slabs and corn blocks. Kids picking up sticks and making their place, trying fire! Walking around ponds cool reflecting sky symmetry like a waveform. Walking trustfully into dusk and nettles with a whole sense of becoming. Including terror of the unknown- like finding something left behind and falling apart, finding a wooden spaceship. How lichen and moss change everything. Mold is a language that distorts, adds distance. Kids running high on adrenaline, carrying on loudly, calling to each other their wild voices. Get away from that thing it is bad! No we have to check what's inside. No we have to look for aliens. We have to leave. We can't. 

Everything is full of remnants and made of old things that are becoming new the more they are touched.