by admin

Zugzwang still by Alle Jong b

Today the world felt grey and dark in Zugzwang, Very strange was one moment when traveling trough Zugzwang. I found a huge flying box, a box i reconized from early paintings of mine i once made at college. Around this box in my paintings figures would stand still, looking at the box. Sometimes they would fulfill actions from wich i don’t know the meaning. I sometimes feel that those people standing around the box, that they know every answer we still don’t know. We see them, but can’t see their knowledge. And you know what the strange thing is? I am the creator of them. I see the past, create them in wich they ”are” the future of who we will become.

I am the one who made that box on the painting. And again the best solution in Zugzwang was creating a floating box, now trough virtual reality. But why a box? A Obelisk? Or a grey dessert full of empty space. Every time when i enter Zugzwang again the world is new, for me as creator it is a new experience every time. I add something new, sketch in the world my ideas, enter to see what i created and, and,, i am lost again in this capsule of the ”nothing” The transcendental feeling that meaning of it’s objects and environment is somewere else is liberating. I can see in the distant something i already tought about, mayby a smoking dogs there, and ducks with a person who is playing piano in the middle of the dessert. In Zugzwang i am lost on the plain. But i see the future of what will become in this world, what i will encounter next. And still when i discover these places were ducks walk around in the middle of a dessert, i don’t know their reason.

Zugzwang by Alle Jong the box

This text is a bit vague, but you should know how difficult it is to travel between reality, the mind, and another reality trough Virtual reality in wich both come toghether so clear and crisp. I think i will travel some more, i don’t know how i managed to type this text and travel trough Zugzwang at thesame time? I didn’t but in mymind i am lost in Zugzwang, even when in type something ┬áthat is another reality of it’s own.