Agent Cooper appears in Coney Island
From March to May 2013, Special Agent Dale Cooper materialized in Coney Island, Brooklyn, and began transmitting messages. Once a week, during this episode, an image appeared on his Facebook page, usually followed by status update.
As Coney Island recovers from Hurricane Sandy's violent invasion of nature, Cooper recovers from his own invasion just as violent, but arguably more sinister. Below is a record in order of appearance.
March 21, 2013
I must admit I feel … out of sorts.
Weeks have gone by. No. Years.
(there is a nagging fear it could be decades)
Time moves at a peculiar pace. I sense it (time) contains holes, like runs in stockings. The wind whistles through.
Description of my current state:
Pieces of myself have been blown apart and spread like dandelion seeds, drifting off in various realities.
I know who I am, but not what I am…
March 28, 2013
At this moment in time, I am focusing my energy on being: on becoming the person that I am.I try to recall the things I loved.
( to love is to exist) I believe you have willed this of me.
I am not completely sure who you are, but I feel you out there.
I hope you mean me well, friends.
April 4, 2013
Although my mind has been bleached of the things that happened,
there is a ghost of something negative,
a faint, dull headache.Yes, there is a trace of a thing very not right.
Very, very not right.
Not right at all.
And yet, glowing from somewhere deep, is a resilient feeling that is quite…(the exact word slips my mind) majestic.
April 11, 2013
This image was originally posted without text.
April 11, 2013
Originally posted without text.
April 25, 2013
I fell in love once, on the water.
I had plans.
There was a boat, and something about a fishing trip.
All was on the up and up.
I suppose that was a long time ago.Here, men are fishing,
but there are signs everywhere that warn:
‘Eat at your own risk.’
The local sea life looks harmless,
but it gets you from the inside.
Love, you may have damned me, but I have no regrets.
May 02, 2013
Some strangers here insist they know what is best for me, and how I should behave. To think that, when my soul has been released after decades of trauma, I would be so quick to repeat the same things, to potentially be led into a horrible trap?
I am still Cooper, breathing in the fragrance of this world. I sense that some prefer that I had remained captive in another world. What kind of love is this?Someday, when I am restored, I will try to find my way back to Twin Peaks. But today, I am comforted by the shores of Coney Island. This is real. There is space to think. And when the memory of darkness creeps in, I turn to the wealth of interesting objects in the sand: shells, coins, discarded wrappers, and other relics. Ah the stories that they hold. Imagination is the miracle of the human mind.