> Everything has been so potent over the last few years, the political backdrop to our lives unravels into chaos and we slowly slide, hiding, into digital worlds that map our thoughts into timelines & unearth curated selections of memories. Meanwhile we navigate growth and becoming, personal lives, (un)/employment, lack of clarity, love and heartbreak, depression and joy. You may imagine it as two interlocking timelines.>,>
> I can trace these years through books read, instagram posts, tweets, people encountered/loved/fucked, bouts of depression, moments of joy. Memories become so important. I don’t know if everyone does it, but I relish in them, glamorise them, repaint them over and over in my mind as details fade and dissolve into sketch-marks.
2012 – Brighton Beach: Noone belongs here more than you, Miranda July
2013 – The writing on the wall, brighton viaduct 2013
If You Repeat Something Enough It Becomes True
2014 – Ghosts of my life // Mark Fisher on Burial //
Wanting an angel to be watching over you, where there is nowhere to go and all you can do is sit in Mcdonalds and not answer your phone.
2015. Sunless- Chris Marker
a trace is found, is lost, all the folklore of dreams is so much in its place that the next day when i’m awake, I realise that I continue to seek in the basement labyrinth the presence concealed the night before.
2016 – Ocean Vuong. Because It’s Summer.
You say thank you, thank you, thank you because you haven’t learned the purpose of forgive me because that’s what you say when a stranger steps out of summer and offers you another hour to live.
2017 – Mouth Scene. 17th Feb, Seydisfjordur, Iceland
To, The Hanging Blood
To, The Burning Rain
August 14th, Trafalgar Square
Blessed are the meek for they shall inherit the earth
Plz capture our tears with ur selfie stick prosthetic
semiotic infrastructures become human patterns of behaviour
8 October 2017 – Robert Montgomery, Billboard, London Fields
Modernism is a psychic love wave – A big gush of sky breath. A shimmer of kindness sung by the ancient earth / it is in the voices of the wind in the trees / it is wild and high in the beauty of the wind turbines that will one day scythe the hair of the troglodyte trump
2017 – Crudo // Olivia Laing. The long hot summer of 2017, the world is falling apart.
It was 19:45 on 13 May 2017. she bought two bottles of duty free champagne in orange boxes, that was the kind of person she was going to be from now on.
Beatrice Gibson, Crone Music @ Camden Arts Centre
This is what happened, I suggested another kind of language, the language of things. The language of shapes, surfaces and wide screens. I suggested speaking through objects and glass. The film became the landscape of those things, the thing, made up of those things, the remnants of a conversation