Patient and Still
The only lasting truth is change
Sleepwalker Drifting.
Sinking deep into a weightless wonder.
A dislocating sense of the never-before.
Straining body and breath at the sea's edge.
Soft limbs, white noise, fleeting watery visions.
Thirsty spring-tide gods and the ever-present whisper of longing.
Danger Unfolding
Exposed. Defenceless. Rasping with resilience at the sea's edge.
Inescapably bound by a deep-rooted 'mysterious-thing-in-itself'.
I am a red flag to the unseen.
Unravelled. Revealed. Placed and displaced: a mad dog at the sea's edge.
Courage is Futile
Slowly morphing habits.
Teaming multitudes and multiplicity gather up with the most ancient of
chills.
Tearful in the passing at the face of the sea’s edge.
The Last Hurrah.
Silver Beds and Marine Sediments
The sublime spectacle of Lincoln Cathedral vibrant in all matter and force.
In this spot alongside the 165-million-year-old oolite limestone and the one-thousand-year-old chisel marks of human labour, the sound of resilience rings clear. Here and now, 20 meters above sea level, the beginnings and endings of our story are rich and loud: the future uncomfortably close.
This dazzling building, an astonishment of human and non-human processes seems a likely survivor of the next 'imminent' sea and river waters rising. Involuntarily, I wonder how to prepare for the notknown and the accidental futures that go on far beyond a human lifetime. I wonder too - what lies behind our seemingly insatiable spectatorial drive to be transported beyond this ‘here and now’. My unplanned thoughts, an unconscious beat at the edge of language.
Lincoln Edge
Emerging from the greyed and corrupted surroundings, a glass-like screen offers a threshold through which a small section
of the world is glimpsed. Doubt and disorientation are amplified by ambient sound - fleeting visions of thirsty spring-tide Norse Gods.
I wonder what lies beyond this unknown.