More eeriness at Cheekwood

This isn't an unknown quest, but it felt surrealistic. "The Glass Bridge" was never a Lovecraft story, but can you imagine one? Below, two angles of the glass bridge on the sculpture walk at Cheekwood, Franklin, TN and a topsy-turvy Chrispy picture.

Don;t forget, many of the pictures I include in the blog can be clicked and they might expand larger into a new window.

{c) Chrisp Perridas, 2006

My recent Lovecraftian adventure

On a trip to Franklin, Tennesee, I discovered the most amazing sculpture hike. I feel that if HPL were alive, and could have traveled to see these sculptural marvels, he would have included them in one of his stories. Indeed, he often spoke of Klarkashton's work and others.

Here is one of those outdoor exhibits. I will take you on a little tour.

On the estate of Cheekwood, Franklin, Tennessee is a wonderful sculpture walk. As you wander the woods, here is a startling architectural wonder. The open door of stone set into the natural limestone and hillside compels ... compels ... compels ... you ... to ... enter.





Inside, the hallway pulls at you to what appears to be a screen - but is really a wall. You can see the benches of concrete. Before you is what you might think a gaping chasm.

It is a pit of black sand. It forces you to meditate on the contrast of the white concrete and then you are forced to look up ... up ... up .. to ...

...an aperture that is open to the sky. The edges are illuminated so that the natural light of day is smoothly integrated with the light from the sky. The heavens are always changing and you stare at the sky for minutes. Then, slowly you merge into eternity. Whether you are looking at the sky of a million years from now or the same sky as our ancestors of 50,000 years ago - it is the ever changing always the same sky.

This is the first of several sculptures I'll share. If you've been there, share your experiences. Or perhaps you can share your own Lovecraftian experiences with the community.

Lovecraft's Providence: Crawford Street Bridge, Part 2

This postcard was mailed when Lovecraft was 16! Time travel back to those heady riverfront days, as he might have bicycled past the docks.




















This reads, "Annie and I pass here every morning. Lena." Lovecraft took walks, often at night, and the smell of fish would have turned his stomach.

















Detail.















Detail.















Ah, yes! The days when postage was but a copper penny.