Wednesday 8th January 2020, 2:00pm
Exhibition text notes:
Can I borrow your eyes?
I’ll pick up where you left off, and before night falls, I’ll search for something of significance
Time is blotted out, meanwhile I’ll take your word for it - no longer disrupted by the passing minutes.
Time taken to help another, could be seen as; time given to another. Learnt language structures frame the thought of using-time as negative, or as a subtraction from rather than a generative force.
The time it takes vs time given,
I cannot account for where or even when this began,
as it was long before us, in place that may no longer exist, at least not in the same way.
Hard rocks have crumbed, slowly away, swept, following,-no swimming along waterways
traveling far, rounding, softening, under, on, between my feet - re-shaping, scaling, shrinking, intensifying - sand becomes pervasive, it’s agile, finds its way everywhere,
The daily, cumulative efforts of many, like the micro movements of sand slowly change the
sea-scape catalysed by extreme weather.
As everything seems uncertain, urgency remains a reliable constant
I look closely at the sand near my elbow, grains of orange, clear, beige, brown, black, white make up the yellowy-sandy beach-scape.
I wonder at the random distribution of all these gains, how come by chance there are not areas darker, lighter, oranger? Their mix makes such a uniform ground, in colour. The foot falls of today’s movements are in the crests and troughs overwritten daily by newcomers, or locals, people who used to live here or come here often and people from the furthest distances.
Each persons’ presence is inscribed in the sand’s malleable surface, one that changes constantly and visibly with the winds tugging at each grain, sending some airborne in a vertical channel, on contact with my skin have a tiny sting. Water creeps up and back at each tide. Pulling and pushing with each wave.
Can we really think a thing to be incidental? When each movement of sand is in response to weather, to our footfalls, to the seagulls, the tides and the storm swells, the pumping, raking, mining, sleeping, sand bagging.. no thing is fully incidental not when interconnections are found. As context defines
But how far does that context reach and which others does it spill into?
The impossibility of trying to balance: …
Absent space, but not
A flower atop a crown
Fires bearing a flaming a message, furiously
Why the hierarchy in words and actions - focus towards what they carry in them. GC