The murals memorialized in Canadian cities as attractions, as must sees, are anemic renditions of what in equatorial climes roll out as statement, as complaint, as conceit. As the multi-dimensional message of the rolling banner along the avenue draws the eye from the broil of traffic into the wall-ways between buildings the eye is startled by the bright colours in the sunlight.  The faces, the skull and the transitions from the living to the dead emerge as the mural rolls along the wall.

A more stylized mural declares a near similar progression to a skull.  The soft sun tones capture the near precision of scientific intervention and the mechanistic influences on labour.  The near juvenile images stylize to graphically urge the hands to do some restorative work.  To roll across the seas and make tracks to a new order.  A resurection for workers. The tangles of working people needing to support families and the gnarly nature of rootedness creates a tableaux for current events.

In the tangled roots, another “mural” declares a firm understanding.  The gnarled water-lines dried by the sunlight in a land where sun is worshipped by visitors.  The messages of nature in the waving arms of roots and the signs painted on the walls clamour for recognition.  The sun is the greater light by day and the community is seeking their place in the pleasure palace.  The thing about roots is that they keep pushing through every curb, pipe and foundation to get by nature what the law may have ignored.  The struggle in the community continues in the contrasts between the marina, the lighthouse, the market and the sunset.  The constant is rooted in a creation order that has crumbled disparate civilizations.  Wall-words hinting at a more excellent way.