red

• The red world and corresponding red breezes
• Went on Geryon did not¹

Red sometimes appears to be the saddest color. An anxious, longing sad, tinged with neu-roses. A sad that can’t sit still. Sad that’s been left in the sun too long. Irradiated sadness. The sadness of the flushed, embarrassed face. Sad red exhaustion. Red is often the color given to the apocalypse—the fires of hell embracing the earth, the heat of climate collapse, the red-orange mists of industry choking cities and hills. Or, at least, red is the moment before the long end. A flash of sad red energy before everything cools down and separates into cold, isolated matter.

Red is rare in the landscape. It gains its strength through its absence. Momentarily, in an ecstatic sunset, the great globe of the sun sinking below the horizon … then it’s gone. I’ve never seen the legendary green flash. Remember, great sunsets are the consequences of violence and cataclysm, Krakatoa and Popocatepetl.²

I make a sunset to ward off dread. A personal symbol of a momentary end within a larger cycle of things. A moment to pay attention to mundane celestial weather.

A signal to return home.