Redemption ~ is a collaboration between the paintings of Peter Howson and the cinematic poetry of Laurence Fuller, in partnership with Matthew Flowers (Flowers Gallery), ONBD and MakersPlace. This piece has exhibited immersively at Lume Studios in NYC and the British Art Fair at Saatchi Gallery.
"Redemption comes to us at a moment of transformation, a moment before revelation. It is not the angels falling from the sky to save us ~ that comes later. It is the first peek at the morning clouds parting, through which that glow may speak, after the ravaging night we left behind us.
Web3 has enabled us to engage our audience with this universal concept, on the Blockbook platform with Story IP, where the piece has inspired over 25,000 adaptations by artists around the world in just a few weeks ~ an unprecedented level of engagement and a testament to the transformative potential of this work. Its visceral appeal to the human condition, that is the power of poetry when in communication with art. Where the language of words and of visual symbols are in a symphony with each-other.
It is the quiet of a late-night harbor, where homeless drunks grill rats, mongoose and scraps of fish over glowing coals. It is the dust of dreams rising from the fallen rubble of the playhouse. Revelation follows close behind, and with it, the opportunity for transcendence. It is for those still standing, after the fall." ~ Laurence Fuller
REDEMPTION ~ Poetry by Laurence Fuller For when I transcend, A greater fool takes my place, And in that redemption, I find the road, for my own way, Casting my doubts out on the rocking waves, Begging my sins to wash away.
I clutched at the morning, It dripped away, There were tingling rumbles in the streets, I heard sounds like dropping pennies at my feet, I must pay my penance, For the guiltless I do menace, The sins I have witnessed, I must not play the victim, Street lamps glowed at me like the moon, But they weren’t, Like the eyes of God in the dark early morning, Piercing my thoughts, Like a lamp in my mind, And my words the the discarded scrap paper thrown out the window,
For when I transcend A greater fool takes my place And in that redemption I find the road, for my own way, Casting my doubts out on the rocking waves, Begging my sins to wash away.
Crumpled and landing at the port, On their way out to sea. What is going on in our world? I’ll ask the moon before it fades to the sun, At long last, I’ll climb the ladder on the bridge from the bottom wrung, I have struggled to reach even the nearest star, I grazed my flesh, to check I’m still here, So many poems to write and never enough time, Never enough time, And what have I got for my toil and strife? Splayed out on the wall for all to see, This arena of humanity, Violins playing at the degenerates ball, This grand opera, An incomplete Iliad, I left it unwritten, by my pen and note pad.
Washed against the muddy shore, Wash up the brilliant and trusted oars of a discarded rowboat that left the trash and seagulls flying with empty cans in their mouths and an empty chest where a ticking clock once was, The tragedy of the evening and heavy breeze of eternity.
For when I transcend, A greater fool takes my place, And in that redemption, I find the road, for my own way, Casting my doubts out on the rocking waves, Begging my sins to wash away.
~ Laurence Fuller, 2024