Entry zero: The Township of Wittenberg is actually a realm reigned by insects. Interestingly enough, the bugs predominantly settle their land from below. Take a shovel and pick up its worth in dirt. What lies in the ground is an endless abundance of tunnels, both of worms, and ants, and all of their wriggling kin. When approaching Wittenberg Village, you first notice the endless rain. Life is but a mystery for surely I must be melting, or drowning. Puddles turn into rivers, rivers drop in waterfalls, as gravity chronicles the rocks which eternally rise from below powered by floes even the ancients could not withstand.
Entry one: Soon enough into the journey signs from another era warn you about the consequences of bad behavior. Beware, a fire might burn. Dogs are animals, and behave as such. Tell us who you are if you feel like having your record in the entrance dropbox. And an endless multitude of rules, with paragraphs and all. Then comes the green, which by now you have already conceived, but past the signs, it is the quiet that settles in. Gentle taps remind you that above rivers of water flow in suspension. Maybe water doesn’t have a source then?
Entry two: In the Township of Wittenberg there is a secret. You stand in anticipation not aware. And yet the feeling of being disturbed never leaves. It is the becoming in the being. An enormous ant hill mined by the bugs sources water from the heavens above to those below. Standing atop, in the center of the village you become one with the source of water that surrounds you.
The Kingdom of Nature. A political system where periodically the winning vote loses due to an overwhelming and understated demand for change in direction.
Janusz Jeremiasz Filipiak 