Canterbury’s takin’ a whuppin’! ……..
Sudden, swift, and hard, the right sings and strikes paydirt. And before the brain stops sloshing within its skull, the left torpedoes in.
Damage upon damage.
A geometric progression of damages leaves him crippled as if hog-tied. Pain, surprise and confusion muddle his reaction. He flails his uncoordinated limbs forward as he weaves and stumbles.
It seems both forever and an instant and it is not over.All together we watch, stunned and waiting for what can only end in a judge’s decision.
This fight of an indeterminate number of rounds is exhausting and infuriating. We didn’t buy tickets for this show. We want the battling to end. We want to go home to sleep and forget; and then wake to a sunny morning in our gardens where we play with the children and the dog.
Transfixed in our horror, we can’t escape. Old rules are rendered irrelevant and all bets are off. The only certainty is that nothing will ever be the same again.
I made this picture (a scan from chrome) 12 years ago. At that time, I knew that I could do anything and go anywhere. Here and now in Christchurch, that image is speaking to me. I find myself puncher, punchee and viewer all at once. I feel the punch but the fight is far from over!