One Last Thing / A Parting Gift / "White Logic' by Adrian S. Kambeck + "Judex (1963) by George Franju...

WHITE LOGIC


Extending out from the grey sun, light travels across a sphere of space, some of which meets blind black earth, lighting it up, fading down into it, causing white fingers to push up underneath inside it, making grey bulges that move underneath inside it, some of which extend out of it and move above.

Eye’s provided to a blind white heart.
White sees itself reflected, Meets itself.
The wind during deafening gravity.
Ear of the chest cupped with a boiling seashell.
A hand holds it there, loosely tightly moderately, pull it away, it fades into the winds of the world.

Up from -¡- -¡- -¡-’s white heart extends a hand, into the mind, where it sculpts through the greys and blacks,
towards and into white.
A mirrored sphere, inside white, rotates.
He then sets out to sculpt other minds white.
His means is to first get the attention of the set of eyes that are performing  some act that through them only white itself could have performed.
The act causes a number of the sets of eyes to be sculpted naively white, through which he speaks wisdom.
A number of the sets of eyes occupy a shade of grey or black in relation to the act, but the minds are sculpted white by the subsequent words.
Mirrored spheres, inside white, rotate.
A number of the sets of eyes are sculpted white by the act, but the minds occupy a shade of grey or black in relation to the subsequent words.
After acts have been performed and words spoken, a number of minds still occupy a shade of grey or black in relation to the white of -¡- -¡- -¡-, Not all these minds experienced it first hand.
In varying degrees of influence, a number of these minds -¡- -¡- -¡-’s body towards and into a fixed position, that is, nailed to a wooden cross by the wrists and ankles.


-¡¡- writes.
Surrounding greys and blacks mingle with his heart, towards and into white space, white world.  Softer than skin.
Two mirrored spheres , inside white, touch, and rotate against each other.

A hand gripping a chisel, another gripping a mallet extend from -¡- -¡-’s eyes.
They move around a mass of greys – the mallet striking the chisel which strikes the mass – sifting them away , til what is left is a white body.
Two mirrored spheres, inside white, rotate.


¡¡ walks, then stops, and paints his eyes through the surrounding greys til they are white.
Two mirrored sphere’s, inside white, touch.
Fading down back into greys again, he must reach white again, but sometimes he is too tired or lost, either to begin, or to get there once he has begun, so his eyes remain shades of grey, at a point, either reaching white again, or fading back down into dreamless black.
A painting seen, now faded.
¡¡ there to witness.
Innumerable insufficient attempts are the past.
¡¡ struggles.
Black sculpts a loaded gun into the left hand.
And sculpts the left shoulder elbow and wrist so that the barrel is aligned with the stomach.
It sculpts the left index finger back against the trigger, firing a bullet, It becomes lodged in the stomach, Left there, The poisons in the lead over time drain the eye’s of their fuel – ¡¡ paints one eye on what surrounds him white, and one eye rotated back, viewing itself, that is being sculpted towards black, The light dampened by supernatural rain clouds – til what of blind black.


¡¡ sculpts heads through the greys til they are white, He sifts away the greys with his white magnet eyes, A pair of hands that extend from his eyes sculpt the matter in from of him, til there is no head left, only white in the form of a head.
That is, the grey head is disappeared in the blinding light of the eyes.
Two mirrored spheres, inside white.
Everchanging, always close, but sufficiently far so that he must keep struggling to reach it, he sees white blind til his eyes are drained of their fuel, leaving what of blind black.


Forever dreaming, he puts on wings, others change to stone.

n’s white heart extends through the motion of his body, down the stick in his right hand, to some runny paint at its tip, that is guided across a column of air, down on to a canvas flat below, freezing there, extended through towards itself.
Awoken in an enveloped by black, from it’s sleep in white, he is a ¡  ¡ sculpture that paints mirrors to see itself in,
That is, he becomes a ¡¡ sculpture a the point he successfully paints a white mirror.
A mirrored sphere, inside white, blinks.
The same struggle as ¡¡, except he sees no greys, either black or white.
A painting seen, now gone.
Black floods into the eyes, drowning white eyeless, from where without pause black begins again to push up.
n is now unable to paint the mirrors.


Eyeless, he struggles to witness white, but none manifesting, The Period extends.
One night, black sculpts the body inside a car.
A finger extends from the dark eyes, flicks a switch, providing them with an area of light in front, then retracts back into the eyes.
A pair of hands extend from the eyes, becoming the steering wheel – the direction.
A foot extends from the eyes and presses flat on the accelerator, becoming the accelerator – the motion.
Eyes sculpt the body across the surface, through the surroundings, towards black.
They steer the mind in line with and sculpt it at this speed against a tree trunk.
Exploding it dreamless black with no breath.


Black space envelops ¡.
A fist extends from his white heart, He turns it back on his non-existent self, which is nowhere in particular, a hopeful particular within the area of a canvas.
He punctures.
With each connecting fist a wound rips across the canvas.
He punches his legs into existence.
He punches his stomach chest neck and arms into existence.
He punches his head into existence, nose mouth eyes ears hair.
He punches into existence the space around him, which is also his body.
Till within the area exists a white body.
A mirrored sphere, inside white.


Black space envelops –
He writes.
The cogs of his words pressed up against his mind – mind rotating the words, words rotating the mind – through the greys down, Or rotated now rotating against his white heart eyeless white
A ¡  ¡ sculpture writing itself.
No mirror to fool white into thinking it has been awoken.
No mirror to fool – into thinking he has awoken it.
White sleeps inside him.
He rests inside white.


Black space envelops -n- -n- -n-.
A mirrored sphere, inside white, rotates.
He sculpts the minds of other breathing bodies into white, through the black spaces that occupy their eyes, that is, the body of -¡- -¡- -¡- replaced with sections of cities.
Mirrored spheres, inside white, rotate.


-n-’s mind is enveloped in nothing.
With hands that extend from his minds eyes, he sculpts through the surrounding greys til they are white, white spaces, white dreams.
A mirrored sphere, inside white, rotates.
Fading down back into greys again, he struggles.
Black cannot be breathed out of, lungs have been replaced with breathing eyes, their hands sculpt their breath, til
Blind black eyes or white.

To bloom through a black hole.

"Ascidian. Kambeck is a Melbourne based artist, writer, theorist and musician. He continues to fight determinist forces despite them being irresistibly strong..."