"Dream About The Beauty In The World...

Bryant -- 23.08.10

2011-07-10T16:26:00.001+01:00

Tripoli Airport - Libya

Little boy,
With bright, wide eyes.
Wobbling along,
Eyes filled with wonder.
Bumping onto the floor,
Bum first.

Bustling, busy waiting room,
Filled with voices,
With bodies,
Filled with heat.

Straight up again,
He totters up to the next person.
Eyes widening further,
Taking in more mysteries.

One year, two months,
He is discovering crowds
For the first time.
Eyes constantly looking,
Face beaming,
accompanied by a cheeky little smile.

Plane from Libya to Ghana

His father and mother,
Friendly.
Trustingly,
Passing their son to us.

A family of three
Taking this journey
Onwards to Liberia.
To see their country,
Their friends,
Their family,
Those who remain.

They are returning
For the first time in 16 years.
If it is safe,
They will return to their homeland,
To Liberia.
If there is still unrest,
They will continue to live in their small village,
In Libya.

Their future...
...resting on this journey.

Almost One Year On

Thinking of this family,
Of the innocent boy with the sparkling eyes.
The friendly, trusting father,
The smiling mother.

Hoping they returned to their homeland.
Praying they avoided the troubles in Libya.

Wishing Stars

2011-07-03T22:55:00.002+01:00

Each child makes a wish.
Sometimes they wonder
thinking of it in their head.
Sometimes they whisper it
so very quietly into their star
so that no one can hear.
Often it remains their secret.
But rarely you get the chance to hear
their hopes and dreams.

A little girl,
all dressed in pink
attempts to whisper
into her wishing star.
Too excited,
she speaks a little too loud.
Her wish so innocent,
said with a smile spread across her face:

"I wish to be a fairy"

I smile.
In my head
my wish forms:

"I wish it could come true".

Directions

2011-06-11T00:14:00.001+01:00

I asked a man for directions to the train station.

His reply:
"The train station?
When did you lot start calling it the train station?
It's a railway station!
You lot trying to be trendy!"

I apologised and walked away.

I never realised I was a "lot"

Only in Year 6...

2011-05-18T22:30:00.003+01:00

Three boys inquisitive boys walk into my hut.
Their mums are sitting close by.
We talk for a while and I tell them how the machine works.
They seem interested, asking more questions.

I am grateful of the company and conversation continues.
We talk of what they have seen today.
They tell me they are on their Easter holidays
And that they will soon get to eat Easter eggs.
One of the boys tells me he has had one already.

I am about to tell them I have given up chocolate
But first ask if they know what lent is.
Two of the boys put their hands up.
They tell me what they know
"It's when you make a promise."
The smallest boy proceeds to tell me his promise.

The same boy starts a new topic about the oldest boy's school.
He speaks with speed as though he can't wait to get the words out
"He used to go to {insert school name here}
But not anymore...
Some of the girls and boys kiss there!"
He quickly remembers to add
"But only in Year 6!"

Uncomfortable...

2011-03-27T18:49:00.007+01:00

Very tall man
crouches into his
very small car.

Shoulders huched
and head bowed down.

He proceeds to drive away.

The continuous dance..

2010-11-03T20:42:00.000Z

Walking to work,
headphones on,
music fills my ears,
but a fluttering sound filters through.

I look around,
then up.
In the tree ahead; two pigeons
sharing the same branch.

Two pigeons side by side,
a small space between them.
One edges slowly towards the other,
taking small side-steps.

Each time he tries to move close,
he is met with her fluttering wings.
She, wanting her own space.
He side steps again,
She flaps her wings
warning him to keep his distance.

The dance continues...
small side steps,
flapping wings,
small jump back,
one beat of stillness,
and so it repeats...

The things the BBC are responsible for...

2010-07-13T19:57:00.001+01:00

At the bus stop,
A very irate, old man opposite,
Sharing his opinion
While almost steaming with anger;
"How would you like it,
if I came into your living room and swore every night?!"
His much calmer friend;
"No, I wouldn't like it at all..."
The angry man now shaking his head vigorously;
"Well that is what the BBC do every night!
They don't have the right, the BBC!
I would cancel receiving the BBC if I could"

The old man continues along the same lines for a while.
In the gaps his friend mumbles sounds of agreement.
I drift off and stop listening.
Somewhere along the conversation creeps back into my consciousness.
The calm man seemingly moved onto a different topic;
"It's always busy"
Assuming he means the bus that has now arrived,
I look up to see it packed.
But the angry man declares,
"It's all the BBC's fault!"

Spirit of our time

2010-07-06T20:13:00.000+01:00

I only post my own work on this blog.
Writings, photos, poems.
But today I want to link to a video, a track.
By Gravel and Partisan.
Sampling Leonard Cohan.
Words, Images, Music.
Strong, Hitting, Meaning,
and in someways breathtaking.

Experience for yourself:

Find out more at the Gravel Project: http://gavelproject.blogspot.com/2010/07/leonard-cohan-partisans-project.html

Getting used to changes

2010-05-25T21:09:00.000+01:00

Too much white,
Clearer to read?
I hope,
but so much white space,
I want to fill it.

Have also added links to my Flickr and Twitter.

A Little Visitor

2010-05-21T13:30:00.002+01:00

Dad calls,
I go to see him.
"Look, Look"
I look out of the window,
to the backgarden.
His fingers point to a little hedgehog.
I tiptoe out to see it,
It has seen me,
It stays very still behind a branch.
I leave it, and go back inside.

I tell my dad I have not seen a hedgehog in our garden since I was little,
When we used to leave out a dish of milk.
Dad tells me the hedgehog comes to visit every night.
He looks at his watch,
"He's a bit late tonight."

Mum's solution to the lack of daisies in our garden...

2010-04-20T16:58:00.001+01:00

"we will fill our pockets full of daisies"

how i smiled :-)

Big Bets

2010-04-10T20:51:00.030+01:00

The usual bus journey to work,
day of the Grand National.
A young, teenage lad,
gets out his phone to make a call.
His call is answered,
his voice loud and deep.
Shouting, "Hello, Hello?"
"Put us 50 on Snowy Morning..."
He repeats, still shouting,
"Put us 50 on Snowy Morning!"
Young lad, in his work uniform,
putting on the big bets.
The person on the other end asks a question,
this time he doesn't shout.
In a lowered voice he answers,
"Yeah, 50 pence".

A smile secretly creeps across my face.

Fragile Memories

2010-03-26T20:56:00.002Z

So much has past
too many memories
scattered across the carpet of her mind

She has always been a hoarder
and now the memories she has collected
have become too much

She searches for her needles
carefully choosing a delicate pair...

...she now spends her days alone
knitting the fragile threads of her life away

Broken Pieces of Hope

2010-02-06T20:28:00.003Z

Walking along the sand,
breathing in the fresh sea air.

A satisfying crunching sound
with each step I take.

I pause...
looking down at the shells under my feet.

Broken,
I have crushed hundreds of little pieces of hope and beauty...

Hidden words

2009-10-20T20:22:00.003+01:00

She carefully carved the words,
immediately realising what she had done,
She tried to scrub them out.
But it was too late,
He had already seen it.

He started towards her,
She looked down to avoid his eye contact,
Desperately trying to cover it up
as he was to pass by.

...thinking how foolish she had been...
...trying to imagine what he could possibly think...

A tear fell,
and yet her eyes were dry.

She felt his damp cheek press against hers
as he took her in his arms
and held her so tightly,
showing the love he never before knew how to express.

Catch her specks of dust...

2009-10-20T20:15:00.004+01:00

She sits with a pen,
With some paper.
Her mind filled with ideas, thoughts.
So inspired,
So full of potential.

Fantastic words start to formulate,
Miraculous images...

And yet as soon as her pen touches the paper,
Her imagination shatters,
It turns to dust
and blows away in the wind...

African Treasure

2009-09-02T20:54:00.003+01:00

A beautiful little girl,
She and her friends full of wonder.
They follow us through the streets,
they follow the muzugos (white people),
that they so rarely see.

We go to visit a school of older children,
we take the young girls with us.
The four of them play amongst themselves,
as we talk to the older children.

Sometimes they are distracted by our play,
by our words,
but mostly they are content,
playing in the grass and dust around them.

We finish, and leave the school,
The four children come with us.
Outside the gates we are ready to head back.
Before we go I give each child a crayon.

The beautiful little girl takes it from me.
She opens her hand
and starts to draw on the treasure she holds.
I look closer.

Her treasure is a razor blade.
Her treasure is a danger,
Her treasure could infect her,
Her treasure could be a killer.

A girl of no more then four years,
Her toy of choice?
A tool that spreads a deadly virus,
In a country where AIDS is a reality.

Magic Spells

2009-05-06T21:55:00.003+01:00

Only in films, and then, computer generated,
to set the eerie graveyard scene.
But this, tonight, is real.
Dirty fluff sweeping past the moon at such speed.
Some so murky it briefly blocks the light of the moon,
Some so thin the moon illuminates a magically, misty, glowing grey

-The sort you would see seeping from a witches cauldron.

Blossom

2009-03-06T13:40:00.002Z

One little cherry blossom,

all alone,

...shivering...

petals shaking in the breeze

The first sign that spring is coming...

2009-03-02T23:54:00.007Z

The sun shines a little brighter...

...but my heart sinks a little deeper

Oh, to be noticed...

2009-02-12T00:01:00.002Z

The quiet girl,
barely utters a word.
Always armed with a book,
lost in her own world.
So thin,
So frail.

She thinks the world doesn't see her,
so she is fading away.
She no longer looks at the world,
eyes down to the words on the page.

She doesn't see the boy who watches her.
Waiting for one look,
one glance,
from his only love...

...his heart is breaking.

The beautiful music in his mind

2009-01-16T18:42:00.003Z

There is an old man sitting on the opposite side.
The whole journey he has been scribbling away frantically,
Through pages,
Turning pages,
Flipping back.

I finally look over to see.
He has a mixture of manuscript and lined paper,
Words and music.
Swapping between pieces of paper
as he has new ideas for music,
then lyrics,
then back to music.
Tapping his foot
- hearing his creation form inside his head
nodding,
tapping along,
stopping.
- that's wrong
then a scribble
followed by more frantic writing.

Trying to capture all of these ideas before they fade away.
I wish I could have heard the beauty of his creation.

2008-11-16T21:41:00.000Z

These evenings are almost perfect,
Cold and crisp, yet no bitterness is the air,
Just cold enough to wake the senses,
And bring your skin to life.

The air holds a smell,
A smell which always returns at this time of year.
The street is awash with beautiful golden colours.
Autumn trees so rich.

Within the darkening sky,
Lamplights producing wonderful yellow glows.

A tree stretches its branches out,
Towards the streetlight,
Surrounding it.
The lamp highlighting the brilliance in colour of the leaves
Creating natures beautiful lampshade.

2008-11-13T21:07:00.000Z

In a cold damp station,
People standing around.
Canceled train.

I see four of them, watching,
With their big beady eyes,
Waiting...
Quick glances between them,
Challenging each other.

Another person comes around the corner.
Walking closer.
Off goes
.one.
..two..
...three...
But the fourth does not fly away.
He wins his game of chicken.

The three other crows fly back,
Ready to play again.

Dark Forces

2008-10-13T22:58:00.004+01:00

Today is the first day this year that I woke up to darkness.
The darkness that fools your brain into thinking it is still night.
That darkness that acts as a weight on your eyelids,

-pushing them down.

A dark blanket has swept across the room,
Tricking my senses to fall back to sleep.

I think the blanket stayed with me all day.

Sesaon of Lights

2008-10-12T22:54:00.001+01:00

In the darkness,
In the cold, crisp air,
They sparkle,
They glimmer,
They shine,

Filling my eyes,

With a promise of what is to come.

w....o....r....d....s

2008-10-11T22:22:00.001+01:00

Why have words become so hard to find?
The poetry...gone...
They no longer fit together like they should,
They have lost their magic.

Alone

they

are

nothing...

Little Gemstones

2008-05-02T21:09:00.000+01:00

Babies, toddlers, children,
Filling the shop.
Crying, giggling, talking.
But between the noise,
It's the quiet voices I hear.

Mother - "Would you like a money bank?
Which one would you like?
A penguin, an elephant?
Oh how about a crocodile?"

The child shakes his head looking a little scared.

Mother - "You don't want a crocodile?"

The child replies in his little voice;
"No it will bite me."

2008-04-22T20:28:00.000+01:00

For once I am early.
On my own,
So I start to walk slowly.
Enjoying the sunshine,
Taking in the atmosphere.

On the opposite side of the road,
A small old fashioned bookshop,
And a cute cafe next door.
My eye catches the word happiness on the sign outside.

I walk up towards the Cathedral
Thinking I may spend my time in there.
I cross over the road and stand at the bottom of the steps.
I contemplate it.

But instead I decide to continue down the road.
Back towards the direction of the bookshop.
As I walk past it,
The titles I notice are slightly odd,
So I do not go in.

I pause outside the cafe, unsure,
I look at my watch
Seeing I have time
I decide to go in.

The menu reads;
"Hot Chocolate
Take advantage of the fireplace,
Hug your mug and enjoy watching the world go by."

2008-04-06T19:42:00.000+01:00

A magical morning.
It's a Sunday...
...the streets are empty, all are still asleep.

...A gentle covering of snow,
Almost like a sprinkling,
Shining from the strength of the sun.

So quiet, so beautiful.
A scene in a fairytale.
Birdsong creating the perfect soundtrack.

The world is especially beautiful today.

2008-02-08T20:52:00.000Z

I've my music so loud I cannot hear anyone else's voice,
Anyone else's conversation.
Sometimes I like to try and figure people out.
But not today.

Today is one of those days,
Where it's as though I can feel every emotion so deeply,
Full of feelings.

I look out into the darkness.
Out there I feel as though I am in my own world.
Watching the darkness,
Seeing small flickers of light creating different patterns.
Passing through towns.
Looking into peoples houses - peoples lives.
And then darkness.

My head filled with the song - with words.
I am away from it all in the darkness.
Until we reach a stop
And I look into the bright train.
With its artificial strip lighting
which pulls me from my beautiful world.

We start to move,
I turn my head towards the window
And I return to the darkness.

2008-02-06T21:00:00.001Z

Walking home after work,
The sky is darkening.
I cross the little bridge over the dingle.

I look up,
And there in the sky,
Was something beautiful,
Something that brought a smile to my face.

There in the sky,
There was a kiss.

There is beauty in the world, if you open your eyes to it.

2007-12-07T22:19:00.000Z

Graffiti On The Cycle Path

2007-12-07T22:07:00.000Z

2007-11-20T22:09:00.000Z

Trip to see my brother in Holland.

^ My favorite and the saddest photo ^

2007-11-11T22:26:00.000Z

The Prettiest Cakes I Have Ever Eaten

Spot the odd one out.

Yum!

2007-11-07T20:38:00.000Z

Slowly awakened.
The sun shinning through the opened curtains.
They shine,
They dance,
Caught in the light..

...they are beautiful.

Small dots of dust,
But how they sparkle.
I lie there - watching...

...mesmerized.

The eyes of a child...

2007-11-06T20:48:00.000Z

A young boy playing hangman with a stranger on the train...

"Are you lying?
You must be,
All grown ups tell lies."

2007-10-23T22:37:00.000+01:00

Waiting...

Cold....

No Information...

Time Passes...

So cold...

Waiting for the last train home.

I look around.

Geometric Patterns.

Repetition.

I look up.

Light separated by strict, bold lines.

A warm orange glow kept out.

2007-10-22T22:58:00.000+01:00

Skerries Mill -Dublin

2007-10-13T21:52:00.000+01:00

After a tiring walk to the top of Maul Famau,
I was greeted with a little suprise..
...a natural heart on an old stoney wall.

A little treasure.

2007-09-08T22:51:00.000+01:00

2007-08-07T23:28:00.000+01:00

Hassal Green Church -Pink!

2007-07-08T23:18:00.000+01:00

It's The Little Details I That I Love

2007-03-05T23:42:00.000Z

Cover for Stained Glass Heroes

2007-02-14T19:48:00.000Z

I had been sitting there for a while.
Just watching.
Feels like there is tension in the air tonight.
Everyone's waiting for something to happen.
...Great expectations...

A young guy comes along.
He keeps looking in the doorway.
I can't see what he is looking at,
But I wish I could.

Has someone left something?
Is he reading something? A sign? Graffiti?
I watch in wonder.

He walks towards the benches.
An unusual chap.
I look and give a smile hoping he will share his secret with me.

He does...
"Do you know if there is an out of hours letterbox for books?
There used to be one in my old library."

I go with him to investigate the letterbox he has found.
We discuss it.
It seems to go into the library but there is no obvious sign.

He takes the risk.
Posts his books inside,
And after a couple of seconds there is a Clunk.

He goes on his way.
And I sit back on my bench.

I put my hand in my pocket to feel the envelopes inside.
I wrap my hands around them,
Wishing I had had the courage to give one to him.

2007-01-26T20:18:00.000Z

Suddenly he starts shouting "F*** You!... Yeah You!"
He bangs on the window.
People start to look round.
And they each get the same response.

His reasoning? :
"What are people gonna do if you say it to them?
Nothing! They are scared of you."

The guy with him stays as quiet as possible.

His attention turns back to the train man.
The same words repeated.

Then he says it:
"I just got out of prison today - What you gonna do?
Send me back?"

And sure enough the police turned up.

2006-12-02T20:37:00.000Z

He bought me a rose today.
I've never been given a flower by a boy before.

A single red rose.

-I think it's much more beautiful on it's own.

2006-08-29T23:58:00.001+01:00

Textile Archives at the V&A

Image used on this blog : http://www.arhv.lhivic.org/index.php/2006/12/01/259-le-va-renonce-aux-droits-pour-lespublications-academiques

2006-07-20T20:33:00.000+01:00

Had I searched the whole entire length of the beach for one
- I'd never have found it.

Small, pale, pink
A tiny hole at the top,
Perfect.

And yet here it is,
Laying in the sand
Shining up at me.

2006-07-20T20:28:00.000+01:00

The sun has started to shine now.
But there is still a breeze.
It strengthens.
And I can feel the sand whipping the back of my legs.

Looking back across the beach,
It looks mystical.
As the sand rushes along.
Like a mist,
Being called back by its powerful sourcerer.

2006-06-16T22:28:00.000+01:00

Nottingham Trent Degree Show

2006-05-31T21:48:00.000+01:00

2006-05-23T22:15:00.000+01:00

The Scientists Project Exhibition at The Surface Gallery- Nottingham

2006-04-29T20:25:00.000+01:00

Just as I walked past,
The wooden gate started to open.
Wide open it revealed a staircase,
A dark area behind.
I slowed down to peer in.

It was inviting me into this little world,
Inviting me to explore.

I looked around wondering whether I dare embark on this adventure.
Seeing other people close by I decide against it.

I walk on knowing I cannot fool myself.
Had there been no people I would have made the same decision.

2006-04-28T20:20:00.000+01:00

Looking up at the ceiling,
There is a long crack in it.

I wonder what it would be like if I could slide through it.
-Squeeze through it,
Become 2D - Like Flat Stannley (remember him?)

I wonder where it will take me.
Would it be dark in there?
Or would it bring me stright out to the sky?
To the sun?

2006-04-26T23:08:00.000+01:00

Yesterday I saw a tiny little bird.
A Bluetit – I think it was.
It stopped on the grey wall beside me.
Its blue breast shone.
It sang a little song.
Just for me.
I stopped to listen.
And when it was finished.
It just flew off.
Perhaps to sing a song for someone else.

- Thank you for brightening up my day. -

2006-04-25T23:07:00.000+01:00

Today will be a good day.
That’s what I’ve told myself.
It has to be.
The sun is shinning.
It’s so warm outside.
We walked in through the arboretum.
It was green and colourful.
The flowers are in bloom.
It’s so nice and pretty.

-I forget my worries for a moment –

2006-04-24T23:06:00.000+01:00

Sitting on the train,
Looking out of the window,
I-pod on,
Headphones in my ears.
Ben Harper comes on:

‘Walk Away…’

(and I can't stop thinking of him)

2006-04-21T23:05:00.000+01:00

I’m sitting on the bench by the Cross.
On the phone to Rachel while I’m waiting for my cousin.
A little boy is running around.
He sees the pigeons
And runs straight towards them.
Chasing them in my direction.
I scream a little:
"Agh Pigeon!"
Just as I do a young guy walks by.
He sees my fear
And smiles at me.
I giggle at my foolishness
And he, seeing it’s okay,
Lets out a little laugh.

2006-04-21T23:04:00.000+01:00

We said goodbye,
Fingers slid apart,
And hands dropped to our sides.
We parted in different directions,
Both turning back for one last glimpse,
Last glimpse before I let my happiness walk away.
He turns the corner,
I start to walk up the steps.
At the top, I stop,
Lean on the rail and watch.
I watch as time slows down,
And he strolls further away,
Then disappears out of sight.
I remain for a few moments longer,
Letting it sink in.
Then I too walk away…

2006-04-19T23:03:00.000+01:00

Question from a tipsy boy to a very drunk girl:

"Are you okay?
Do you need help to get down the stairs?"

"No its okay –
- I’m fine
– just everything looks kind of wrong – you know?"

The boy smiled,
Took her by the arm
And they wobbled down the stars together.

2006-04-16T00:27:00.000+01:00

“Are you being bitten …
… by a baby?”

- Imagine that -

2006-04-11T23:01:00.000+01:00

It has been years since I have sat at this desk.
I normally just use it to dump things on.

The last time I remember sitting here,
I was still a school kid,
Spending most evenings studying late into the night,
- Candle burning -

I can watch the street from up here,
Yet I am invisible to them.
I see the man from across the road
Get into his white van and drive away.
I see Tom in a world of his own,
Headphones on.
Next door has visitors,
I don’t recognise them.

And as always I can see the TV flickering in number 31.
I can see the shapes on the screen,
I used to always try and guess what they were watching.

It’s darker now –
The street lamp outside my window has come on.
I see the street differently from up here.

2006-04-11T23:00:00.000+01:00

I wonder if he isn’t allowed inside her house,
For years he has pulled up outside in his little blue car,
Either to pick her up,
Or drop her off.
But never once in so many years have I seen him go inside.

He’s been waiting there for ages now,
I heard him beep a while ago,
But there is still no sign of her.

I have never even seen him get out of the car,
Why does he never go to the door?
Is she hiding something inside,
That she doesn’t want him to venture inside?

Ah - here she comes now,
Ready at last,
Wearing red shoes and a maroon skirt.

- I wonder where it is they go -

2006-04-06T22:57:00.000+01:00

I haven’t walked this way home in a long time.
But then I suppose I am never coming from this direction.
It’s early evening, and although it’s still light, there is a grey cloud overhead. It’s raining and there is a bit of wind.

As I turn the corner I quicken my step and turn off my music.
While I don’t mind it in the daytime, I’m a little wary of this bit as its darkening.
I am mostly out of eyesight and ear shot.
But it’s only a short walk.

I look left onto the racecourse.
Through the small gaps in the fence and hedges.
There is one guy flying a kite,
And a few lads playing football, shouting and laughing to each other.

I can see them, but I don’t think they can see me.

I near the end of the walkway.
It is clearer then it used to be.
They have cut down most of the trees to make way for the new riverside path.
Poor trees.
- Dead and gone.

I walk up the wooden steps.
I surprised they are still standing strong.
They look the same but don’t feel as weak and creaky as they used to be.

I walk along the wooden bridge path, next to the railway line.
The rain seems to be lightening up a bit.
I look down at the wooden slates as I walk,
Watching for it…

Although I know I am not near it yet.
I think perhaps I may not be able to see it in the rain.
I slow down as I start to near where I think it is –
- I stop
- I look down
And there it is.
The letters carved into the wood

F . . . . i . . . . t . . . . z

What was it we would talk about…?

2006-03-30T23:02:00.000+01:00

I love to collect words, phrases, sayings, lines, quotes, conversations.

2006-03-30T22:40:00.000+01:00

2006-03-24T22:55:00.000Z

This morning,
I woke up wanting to share the beauty of the world with you.

The sun beamed through my window,
Warming my skin,
Gently waking me to this new day.

The song of birds eased me into the morning.

I opened the window and breathed in the spring.
I felt the fresh air circulate around my body.
Leaving me feeling new.

The world feels beautiful today.
The only thing missing was someone to share this with.
The only thing missing was you.

2006-03-23T22:54:00.000Z

Time moves on,
People pass you by,
Things are forgiven
And in time forgotten.

What seems important now,
Will mean nothing then.

2006-03-21T22:49:00.000Z

I can see them.
They could see me too…
…if they looked up.

But no one ever does when they are down there.
I’m in my own little world,
- Sound blocked out.
-they too are in theirs.

Yawning,
Looking around to check no one saw.
He thinks no one did,
- But I saw him
He’ll never know
- None of them will.

I wouldn’t feel comfortable if I knew,
- own time to think,
To reflect,

- No one else should disturb that.

2006-03-21T20:05:00.000Z

I keep ignoring you-

-I'm sorry.

Sometimes you just seem like too much effort.

2006-03-17T22:46:00.000Z

This sound –
I keep getting lost in it.
Feelings following sounds –
- Copying -
Maybe it’s because of the setting.
I’ve never really been bothered about sound art before,
But sitting in the dark,
In cinema seats –
It’s different.
I am lost in my own space,
Unaware of the others around me.
I wish I was here alone,
Just me and the sound.

He says he hasn’t got very good English, but its okay. It may not be that easy to follow but that might just be because I’m not particularly interested in most of the work.

You can tell he is struggling to get his words out though.

Makes me miss French.
I wish I had kept it up.
I wish I had kept my exercise books.
I’m quite annoyed with myself for throwing them away.
Maybe that should be on my list
- To relearn French.

*I feel bad that I haven’t been listening to anything he’s been saying.*

2006-03-16T22:44:00.000Z

I’m not sure how or where to start.
The first line is always the hardest.
I'm past that now.

I suppose I should really start by explaining my work and where I am up to know. I know everyone has seen my cards – I have shown them before. But I’m not sure if they know what I’m doing now.
It’s all about the text,
The writings,
The accounts,
-oh and the odd (bad) doodle.
But this is what I feel comfortable doing.

Though I’m starting to feel really nervous now,
Just thinking about it.
About having to talk…

But I must carry on and get this done, leave the nerves till later – or at least until tomorrow. There is no reason for them to be here now, in my room, on my own- or so tell myself.

Presentation of the work – that's what I’m really struggling with.
How best to present the text. I wrote down lots of ideas but I’m not sure that I’m convinced by any of them yet.

I spent hours in the library yesterday.
Searching through books – a lot of it felt like a waste of time which was disappointing.
But I did find a page or two to treasure which I’m glad of.

I will show two Fiona Banner images.
One typed text,
One handwritten.
I have two books with slightly different images of the work I want.
I think I know which one I will use.
Eyes drawn to a word,
I read part of a line before my eyes scan
And are drawn away to another word,
A darker word.

See bad doodles -

Fragments as stand-alone pieces.
- I quite like that Idea, but then again I like a lot of ideas.
I’m just no good at making decisions. I hate them.
"Confused, bemused and I don’t know where I’m at." – That’s how Rich sums me up.

Anyway I’m getting off track.
Stephen Kaltenbach – I could talk about him.
But I’m worried I’m going to have trouble pronouncing his name which scares me. Silly, I know.
But his plaques – reminds me of all the benches and chairs I’ve been reading lately.
Small fragments of insight into someone else’s life.
Someone else’s interests and wishes.

I looked everywhere for the notes- but I can’t find them.
I’m annoyed at myself and the mess.
No wonder everything always goes missing.
I really wish I knew the name of the artist though.
Maybe one of the others will have it written down somewhere – ill ask them tomorrow…
…if I remember.

Interaction – not even sure if that’s the right word,
But it’s that thing I want in it somewhere
-that doesn’t even make sense.
I don’t make sense.

This idea – I want to do it,
But I don’t know if I will, if I can.
Scared.

2006-03-14T22:41:00.000Z

I saw some daffodils this morning.
There is some hope

2006-03-13T22:39:00.000Z

I like it up here
I know I’m probably not meant to stand up here

- Health and safety and all –
But I like it.

I can see out of the window
Onto the street below.
People passing by.
Mainly students.
To-ing and Fro-ing from uni.

I don’t know why,
I just had the urge to write on the brown paper,
I had only put it up to protect my work from the dust.
Actually I really wanted to draw or paint on it,
On the large brown paper,
But I can’t
I’m scared I’ll ruin it.

2006-03-13T22:37:00.000Z

Running around like a headless chicken,
Busy, busy,
I feel slightly better now I’ve got some of it done.
This morning I went to the corner shop,
The sun was shining,
There was a strong wind,
But it felt nice-
Cold, but fresh.
It felt like spring was on its way at last.
I do hope it is.

*- Gemma says it’s going to snow this week (
Apparently winter is back! -*

2006-03-13T21:12:00.000Z

2006-03-08T22:13:00.000Z

Ill, ill, ill, ill, ill, ill, ill, ill, ill.

I hate feeling ill.

It’s been too long, and I still feel so rough.

I think you should invent some magic pills for me,
Because the ones I have taken today have done nothing!

And I don’t mean magic pills that make a beanstalk – although that might be cool, if there is no scary giant up there.

And yes of course they would have to be pink!

2006-03-04T01:06:00.000Z

New York Library

2006-03-03T01:12:00.000Z

New York

Lampshades on Lamposts!!!

2006-03-01T21:25:00.000Z

2006-03-01T01:04:00.000Z

Empire State Building

2006-02-26T21:37:00.000Z

2006-02-22T22:06:00.000Z

Ikea – Nottingham

My parents are visiting.
We decide to go to Ikea.

We try out every sofa.
Sit on every seat.
Lie on every bed.
Go into every show room.

Mum found some plastic flowers. She brings them over to me. We decide to put them in a show room.
I go into one.
Take out a glass
And put the flowers inside.
Then I take out a card
And leave it next to them.

We collect flowers as we go along and put them in different places. In one of the kitchens, I put three flowers sticking out of the sink plughole. And leave a card in the sink next to it.

I really want to put one in the toilet. So I find a show room where the toilet is slightly secluded. I go in. But the seat has been glued down.

Instead I settle for leaving the flowers and card in the bathroom sink. But I don’t wait to see if anyone notices in any of the rooms.

We come out of the last room and there is a spotlight circling on the floor. It’s projecting some offer they have on. But as no one is around, we decide to use it as a spotlight to dance under. I dance in turn with my mum and my dad.

Who’d have known you could have so much fun in Ikea?

2006-02-10T21:51:00.000Z

2006-02-10T00:35:00.000Z

We sit side by side on the bed.
Still.
Too scared to talk.
Fear of what is to come.
…
I am feeling uneasy.
- I move to the other side of the bed
And try to make myself comfortable.
He does the same.

Silence…

He can’t take it any longer…
“Are we going to talk now?"
I dared not speak...
“I think we need to.”

I know he is right.
It can’t be delayed any longer.
I can’t delay it any longer.

It is me that has to speak.
He is waiting…
…
I look at him.
I see his eyes.

This is the hardest things I've ever had to do.
I don't know how to do it.

I keep searching for words,
Hoping for some to come to me.
But they don’t.

And all I can say is…
“I don’t know how to start.”

He sits,
Waiting,
Patient.
Waiting for the words to leave my mouth.

But they won’t come.
They have deserted me.

I ask him to start,
Knowing there isn’t much for him to say.
But hoping me would lead me to where I needed to be,
Bringing me closer.
Just as he always does when I struggle.

Like the good-hearted person he is,
He does what I need.
What he knows I need.

He leads me down the path,
Holding my hand,
Drawing me nearer to the edge with each word.

Then he speaks the words
That prepare me to take a step on my own.

“Normally it’s me who reassures you that it’s all going to be ok.
But I can’t do that this time,
I just don’t know…”

He has let go…
I am at the edge…

He looks at me,
Willing me not to speak the words we both know are coming.

And through a broken voice
- I speak them.

“I just don’t know that I can do it anymore.”

I take the final step.
I speak the selfish words.

The stillness returns,
This time disturbed only with teardrops.

Holding them back hurts more,
And so I let them come.

Here we lie,
Holding each other.
Never wanting to let go,
Never wanting this time to stop,

Our bubble,
Our moment,
Our time.

2006-02-02T22:01:00.000Z

Weatherspoons, The Roebuck – Nottingham

Closing time draws near. We are planning where to go next.
The bar tenders start to clear the tables, closing down for the night.

One of the bar tenders has been wiping the tables next to where we are sitting. He is called away.

He has been gone for over ten minutes already.
He has left his cleaning stuff on the table so he will be back.

I pick out a card, and put it on the table.

We carry on talking, finishing our drinks. I forget all about it. Until I see him walk back over.

I watch him.
I wonder if he will pick it up,
Or if he will ignore it.

He goes to pick up his spray and cloth.
But stops.
He has seen the card.

He picks it up.
He reads it.
A small smile creeps across his face.
And in turn across mine.

He tucks it into his shirt pocket,
And carries on cleaning with a smile on his face.

2006-01-31T21:58:00.000Z

Café Nero – Nottingham

The only place to sit was up here.
There is a good view.
Of people passing by.
I get to watch them pass through their lives.

My eyes flicker round the room.
Watching,
Observing their movements.

There is a guy sitting in the corner reading a book.
I am jealous of him.
I want to feel comfortable sitting on my own.

He gets up to leave.
A game of musical chairs takes place in his absence.

I take a card out, reach out and place it on the table next to me. Minutes later, a guy and a girl come in and sit at the table. It hasn’t been cleared yet so they push the rubbish over to one side. They don’t seem to notice the card.

I look back out of the window,
I watch the people walk by.
I play the guessing game.
Making up stories about who they are.

He smokes his cigarette.
She touches her hair.
I look down
– I watch.
He paces up and down
– waiting.
She glances inside.
The little one blows her nose.
I look away.

I look back over to the couple,
They are deep in conversation.
Too deep now- they won’t notice it.

Outside I see him.
I’ve heard about him before,
But I have never seen him until now.
I watch him until he passes out of my view.
Headphones the size of speakers.
They must be some weight to carry around.
The women waiting outside the shop sees him too.
She watches him pass, smiling to herself.
I smile at her, smiling at him.
Everyone is watching everyone else – but no one notices that they are being watched…

Not even me…
Until I look up and see him looking at me.

I stand up, drop a card and leave.

2006-01-25T21:50:00.000Z

Cookie Club – Nottingham

With my coat and purse in my hand I queue up for the cloakroom. The woman takes my coat. I pay her, take the ticket and walk onto the dance floor. We start to dance and I realise I sill have the ticket in my hand. I get my cardholder out and put it inside.

The holder glows under the UV light, and in our merry state we seem to find it really interesting.
I get a card out, and as I do someone takes it from me and starts waving it around.

A couple of guys dancing next to us look over and see the glowing card.
They grab it wondering what it is.

One of them tries to read it, but can’t make it out in the dark.
His friend takes it from him.
He reads it and looks very confused.

‘What does it mean?’

‘Whatever you want it to.’ I answer.
I don’t think he is happy with that as an answer.

‘Is it some kind of religious thing?’ he asks.
His friend has now managed to read it, and he too is looking at me waiting for an answer.

I tell them that it isn’t.
We talk for a bit.
They are still very confused,
And I am having trouble explaining myself.

I don’t really want to explain myself.
We talk and laugh,
They still don’t understand.
But I don’t mind that.

At one point they seem to be slightly offended by the card. Which I admit I don't quite understand.
But we laugh it off on both sides.

The card is returned to me,
The two guys say bye and wander off in search of a drink.

2006-01-24T21:42:00.001Z

Boots Library – Nottingham

I get in the lift to go up to the fourth floor – computers.
I put my smart card in my jacket pocket and realise I have a card in there from yesterday. I had planned to leave it in the arboretum on my way home, but it was locked up by the time I left uni.

There is no one else in the lift.
So I tuck the card into a bit of metal next to the door.
Most of it still on view.

I get out on the fourth floor.
There is nobody waiting to get in when I get out.

I’m slightly disappointed.

Time comes to make my way home.
I wait for the lift to come.
I forget all about the previous card, until I get in, and notice where it isn’t.

I look down to the floor, expecting to see that it has just fallen.
But it isn’t there.
Somebody had taken it.
It makes me smile.

I find another one to replace it.

When I reach the ground floor,
There is one guy alone.
He enters the lift after I get out.

I hope that he will notice it.

2006-01-24T21:42:00.000Z

I went to the New York film club.
There weren’t many people there.

But I kinda liked it like that.

It was West Side Story.
I love it.
I wanted to sing along but I couldn’t really.

Ruby left me half way through,
So I was sitting on my own,
But it was still cool.

2006-01-19T21:23:00.000Z

Today I did the screen-printing workshop.

White words on white paper.

White works on cream fabric.

Hidden words,

Whispers,

Your secrets.

2006-01-16T22:58:00.000Z

Today I met Jane.

We went on a sweet hunt,

- The best kind of hunt possible.

All in the name of research.

At least that was her excuse.

I just didn't need one.

2006-01-04T21:17:00.000Z

Café Nero – Chester

Sitting drinking hot chocolate and I remember
– my cards –

I keep forgetting to leave them.

I always have a couple with me wherever I go – but I always forget. And that is the whole point of them.

The tables in Café Nero are really close to each other. So I put one on the table next to me.

A few minutes later, a waiter comes over to clear the table.
I look over and see that he has put the card on the tray.
Cleared it up with the rest of the things.
He takes it away.

- I hope he will look at it when he clears the trays –
But I know he won’t.

I know it will end up in the bin.

_________________________

Later on I leave one on the table on the other side of ours.

We sit and talk for another 20 minutes or so.
- In all that time nobody comes to sit there.

We make plans to go somewhere else. I start to gather my things, and as I do a lady comes and sits at the table. I start to put my jumper and coat on slowly, wanting to stay a little longer. But Rich is already standing up, waiting for me, so I can’t be too long.

I try to watch the woman without being too obvious.

As she approaches the table, she pushes the card over to the other side before sitting down.
After having sat down and taken her jacket off, she has nothing to do but wait until her friend brings the drinks over.

As she waited,
She reaches over for the card,
Has a quick look at it,
And then puts it back down.

A second later she picks it up again, almost as though doing a double take.
She holds it right up to her eyes to read it properly.
She looks slightly confused.
She turns the card over, looking for more information on the back.
She finds nothing but a signature.
She puts the card back on the table in front of her.
Still looking at it and wondering.

By then I had delayed myself as much as I could and I now had to leave.

2005-12-30T21:14:00.000Z

London Underground

I’m sitting on the tube, rucksack on my knee - this is the perfect opportunity! I search through my rucksack for them but there is too much stuff and I can’t find them…

…I get frustrated….

I remember I have some in the zip pocket - I find the box, open it, take three cards out and close my bag. The guy opposite looks over to see what I've taken out. I get embarrassed and try to hide them.

*It’s been a while since I have left any cards and I had forgotten how scared I sometimes feel when I am about to do it.*

The guy gets off. The opposite seats are now empty. I want to lean over and put a card on the seat in front, but there is another guy sitting next to me and I'm too scared.

I wait until my stop.
I stand up.
Put my rucksack on.
Cards clutched in my hand.
As I get off I drop one on the seat.
I don’t look back.
I feel like I can breathe again now.

I’d forgotten how frustrated I get.
How much it makes my heart race.

I’m glad I did it now.

________________________

London Underground

My final tube home.
I get the card out as I wait on the platform. The tube comes. I get on, and as I do I drop a card on the seat opposite before I sit down. There are only two other people in the carriage so I don’t feel too self-conscious as they don’t even notice me.

-I sit down and wait, knowing I have to pass through seven stops and that it is getting close to rush hour.

At the next stop a European family get on…

The youngest boy, who looks around 6 years old, picks up the card. – He looks at it, but he doesn’t understand it.

His older sister comes over to him, takes it from his hand, again not understanding as she looks at it.

Then the middle brother comes over, he takes it from his sister and has a quick glance at it. Realising he doesn’t understand it, he sits down. He keeps the card in his hand the whole journey, glancing at it every now and then.

In some ways, I wish he would just put it down and then there may be a chance of me catching someone else’s reaction before I have to get off. But I know I shouldn’t be thinking like that.

*And I am glad he didn’t discard it straight away like his brother and sister did, just because he didn’t understand it. *

I wonder whether he will take it with him.
I cannot decide whether or not I want him to.

Their stop comes and I think I am partly relived when he leaves it on the seat before he gets off.
But I don’t like that I feel this way for selfish reasons.

The man that has been sitting a couple of seats away from them tries to look over at it, but he can’t see what it is.
He tries a couple of times…
He is too far away…
He gives up.

I have two more stops before I have to get off and I am secretly hoping that someone else will get on and sit there before I have to go.

Nobody comes and though I know I shouldn’t…

…I feel disappointed.

2005-12-17T21:13:00.000Z

So much for my plans of writing daily, or at least more regularly.
Thing is, the real reason I don’t is because I can never get to my computer, because my desk is always piled high with rubbish, covering the keyboard and mouse and I have no where else to put the stuff. So I just don’t bother and the pile gets higher.
I have too much junk and I don’t know how to get rid of it.
- I don’t know how to be ruthless,
I always keep hold of everything.

The only reason I’ve managed to get to the computer now is coz I had to tidy my room. Going home for Christmas. Well for some of it. Will be in London for lots of it too.

So I’m just waiting to be picked up
Have been waiting all day…

But it’s been nice to have a day where I just have nothing to do… well once I had tidied and packed. For once I could do nothing without feeling guilty, and felt good.

-I’m just writing rubbish so I should stop really -Sorry –

2005-12-05T21:58:00.000Z

2005-12-01T22:10:00.000Z

2005-11-29T21:10:00.000Z

Today I was talking to little Laura, she told me about her auntie. The one who took some of my cards at our exhibition…

Laura had been talking to her.
She had split from her partner and so it meant she could put up the things she wanted to without having to compromise.

She put my cards on a part of the wall where the plaster was coming through – to brighten it up a bit, and so that she can look at them when she is feeling sad.

She had some men round her house to fix something. And because they are handwritten they aren’t easy to just glance at. So these men were trying to look at them subtly, but they couldn’t – they had to look at them closely before they could realise what they said.

It is nice to hear what happens to them afterwards.
When they start to have a life of their own.
With most I will never know what happened to them.
So I like it when every now and then people will tell me a small account of their card.
And I get a little glimpse into its new life.