Broken hexagons, deer skulls & beer bottles scattered in the swamp, as if someone or something is leaving clues, but it’s all just dust- as if a giant dirt bomb of our cultural debris was blasted in the face of nature, exploding discarded artifacts across the peripheral landscape. This is the swamp thing. A voyage into the incidental and magnetic landscape roiling at the edges of our civilization. Relics of the not-too-distant past become temples for the future. Shrines for the imagination. Take our eyes, let our visions guide your subconscious through the intoxicating rhythm of the jungle. Walk with us on the perimeter of our culture, through the tunnel of time.