There’s blood in the sky. It’s splashed on the blackness of night, forming a column of red above me. White flashes are mixed in with the red, purity in the face of war. To the Inuit, red lights in the sky means conflict is on the horizon. The lights are warrior spirits dancing, warning that their fate will soon befall more. Some believe the spirits dance to comfort the ones left behind. To let them know they’re in a better place. Cold winds blow over the tundra, carrying the cries of wars not yet forgotten. The spirits’ warning. I move my hands to my ears, wanting to forget.
The wind drops away, leaving me standing in stale air. The red lights above me are projected onto white triangles suspended from the ceiling in a tower-like structure. People move around me, but I ignore them. My eyes are still fixated on the red light. The more I look at it, the more the red seems to shimmer on its own. The night sky behind bleeds with the red and white, making blood dance once again. I walk away and shake my head, not wanting to see what other patterns might come.
Red lights in the sky could mean so much in the North, yet here it means so little. And I can’t help but wonder, which side has the truer picture?
*
A/N- A lobby space at the gallery, trigger, Transfer: Move your subject into a new situation, environment or context. Adapt, transpose, relocate, dislocate. Adapt the subject to a new and different frame of reference. Move the subject out of its normal environment; transpose it to a different historical, social, geographical or political setting or time. Look at it from a different point of view.
