Geological Surrealism

The melted wax of a thousand candle medieval banquet, dripped monster sandcastles patiently built by the children of giants, the hallucinogenic history of abstract expressionist sculpture, terrifying congealed lava flows and radioactive deformations, the fossilised tears of unknown species. The Gruta da Lapinha in the Parque do Sumidouro in Minas Gerais, is one of the largest and most spectacular of the estimated twenty-six thousand caverns in Brasil. A subterranean palace comprised of twelve main halls connected by cascading stairs, the complex extends for five hundred metres in a continuous panorama of stunning limestone formations that hang, twist, ascend and fragment in an impossible array of ochres, pinks and greens. Formed by marine deposits accumulated over millennia from the shallow seabed that once formed the Rio das Velhas water basin, it is  monumental, iridescent and humbling. I was lucky to have the place to myself when I visited one late spring afternoon and as I tentatively stepped forward, I was convinced I was being watched as the rocky shadows, elaborate geometries, fluid surfaces, stalactites and stalagmites began their dance in slow geological time. The slightest creak, footstep and drop of water echo from natural speakers down through distant chambers in an eerie symphony that recedes into utter darkness.  High on the wall at the exit,  a solitary pictogram painted in black of a mysterious long necked creature, is evidence that people have been visiting this geological shrine for thousands of years. Maybe to seek shelter and hide. Or perhaps simply to pay homage to the magnificent slumbering leviathan.