The birth of liquid time
Terry Baker
printed on Giclée Epson Semi-Gloss
This image arose from frequent enquiries into the effects of heat and acid on photographic emulsions, the blistering and crackling of these fragile surfaces offering a plethora of possibilities.
These colourful scorch marks and carbuncles become the source of regular expeditions into hidden worlds of fantasy and dreams, where the the illogical reigns supreme.
This is the world of Surrealism, where random thoughts flow entirely without constraint, like water rushing blindly to some vast ocean.
An ocean which forever remains just out of reach; an ocean which contains an infinity of possible worlds.
The title is deliberately Dalinian, for time, much like desire*, is a liquid. It ebbs and flows and travels wherever it will. Having been born it surges on relentlessly, sometimes a stream, sometimes a torrent, but never reversing its onward flight into oblivion.
It will only rest motionless, a feather in the balance, for a single parcel of light.
It is the fourth dimension of this constraining reality. What of all the other realities? Worlds that wander in the secret recesses of the mind?
It is all just an illusion, a delirium of smoke and mirrors.
*Salvador Dali 'The Birth of Liquid Desires' 1932
