Out Of Season
Placeless places and wastelands of dreams and hopes, meaning and memories. Sheltered utopia and dystopia in abandoned idealism. Neither, here or there, inside or outside, nor utopian and real, nor dystopian and fake. Shadowlands of our past-selves, broken and built - on holiday. A dislocation and disruption of our everydayness. A reservoir of imagination, both utterly mundane and utterly extraordinaire. Everyone is in the known, yet nobody has the faintest clue. Informed by our own fictionality, yet we demand reality. Passengers and prisoners of longing to belonging. A darkness of bright colours. A playground of changing tastes and idealised pasts inside working presents. We are the Out of Season, a luxury commodity.