May 31, 2009

The Magnificent Kingdom of Mulch

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The Magnificent Kingdom of Mulch in the glorious light of midday.

posted by in anthropology, architecture, mysticism, photography | * | 8 comments 

comments

  1. Daryl Scroggins on May 31st, 2009 at 3:00 pm

    What a great picture! I love the way the blue wrap gives a kind of glacial impression at first. Frozen canyons of the sky.

  2. Sheila Ryan on May 31st, 2009 at 3:04 pm

    The Kingdom of Mulch is so peaceful. And it is glacial. This afternoon I was lying down in the Kingdom of Mulch, blissing out and taking snapshots. It reminded me of the one time I nearly succumbed to hypothermia.

  3. Coop on May 31st, 2009 at 3:04 pm

    There is still something almost Ur-like here, even by the bright light of day.

  4. Sheila Ryan on May 31st, 2009 at 3:06 pm

    I really wanted to remain in the Kingdom of Mulch. But some people think it lies within the Wal-Mart parking lot, so I can never stay there as long as I like. Especially when I am lying on the ground between the towers and gazing at the sky.

  5. Daryl Scroggins on May 31st, 2009 at 3:07 pm

    And what does it all smell like? Cedar or something more carboniferous? Root-rot tea perhaps…?

  6. Daryl Scroggins on May 31st, 2009 at 3:11 pm

    Okay, here’s the plan: when they aren’t looking, get the hand truck and rearrange the skids to form a hidden room (you know–like rooms made in high weeds by smashing down a path and a square place). Maybe you could tap into their electricity and water–get you a TV and a little fridge in there….

  7. Sheila Ryan on May 31st, 2009 at 3:11 pm

    The scents of the Kingdom of Mulch mingle. There is indeed a whiff of cedar, calling to mind the Cedars of Sinai. Something of a root-rot bottom note as well. A petroleum tang from a nearby petrol works.

    And the faintest breath of cow flop from the farm across the way, the place owned by the guy who did not sell out to Wal-Mart.

  8. Sheila Rya on May 31st, 2009 at 3:16 pm

    Dang, Daryl. It could work. Sometimes truckers park their eighteen-wheelers on the pale of the Kingdom of Mulch. Maybe I could swap blow jobs for electricity and water.

    Oh, and II have a German associate who, on his last visit to the States, succeeded in stealing an article from a Wal-Mart. So if I get desperate, perhaps I can call upon my network of international contacts.

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