Once upon a time, many lives ago, I was a roaming giraffe on the Serengeti plains and Ellen was an agile Massai huntess who pierced my heart with her silver spear of extacy - or so it felt when I first met her at one of those parties where everyone falls in love with everyone else, which can only happen in New York, on a clear starry night, when taxis are easy to get. Mati Klarwein - New York Angel - 1965

early arc experiment from tehn on Vimeo.

Surrealism has never meant anything to me but a new kind of magic. The imagination, the dream that whole intense liberation of the subconscious who's purpose is to raise to the surface of the soul, all that is in the habit of keeping concealed, must necessarily induce profound transformations in the scale of appearances in the value of signification and the symbolism of the created. The whole of concrete reality changes it garb or shell and ceases to correspond to the same mental gestures. The beyond, the invisible replaces reality. The world no longer holds. Artoud.

Lacey Creek, Australia.