Sliding horizons

Soon after the full palette of the day's light narrows to the duskier hues and the thick smog daubs a hazy softness upon an already graded horizon, there comes a moment of perfect density of vision. From the foreground, blurred from speed of the train, to the extreme depths of the picture crammed with the normally pixelated squareness of a miriad apartment buildings, there is non-stop continuity of stuff. Stuff and not space.
The landscape of Western Japan is a continous city where space as we know it in Australia is an interruption, an afront, to the startling concentration of habitation.
Looking out of the train window, the heated seating creating a thin layer of condensation on the perspex, I almost get the same feeling that I have had gazing upon a never-ending sunburned plain in central NSW - that sense of vastness, of continuity. The eye can rest on the whole picture and not be taken by the intrusions of buildings and the like. Here it is the same but inverted. Where there is a blank spot of land, my eyes experience a shock and the horizon is thrown out of perspective. But not today. Today it is a perfect picture. A sliding horizon.

ryryry