Thursday 14th October 2021 (Toffia, IT)
It’s exactly a week since I last wrote anything. I haven’t done so well at sticking to my half a page of writing each day. Perhaps I’ll try to remember what filled my days between, perhaps I won’t. I only know that it’s been two weeks since my arrival, yet it feels at the same time shorter and longer, nothing has been achieved, and yet so much has been achieved. My Italian vocabulary is increasing little by little, I’ve switched from caffeinated to decaf, I haven’t missed butter, the sound of a shotgun is commonplace and the mountain goats have a favourite nightspot on top of a precarious stony crag – to escape perhaps the hunters, predators or the cold, so we thought.. learning since that they are simply there because it feels right. I will miss the amazing mountainous views of lush green foliage that I have already begun to take for granted as it surrounds us in every direction.
Tear me down and build me back up, but this time build me strong.
I only want to tear each letter out with my fingernails and rip all the words away.
My frowning is getting worse, I can tell because the lines on my face are looking more prominent.
Its never going to warm up in here, not today, not for a few days, my fingertips and bones will have to suffer.
Screaming seems like a solution.
I CAN’T WRITE ANY MORE NOTES
If I do ever return to them and read what I have written, they won’t even make any sense.
So really my notes are pointless.
The act of note taking is really me pretending to myself that I’m being productive, that I am getting organised, but the more the notes pile up, the less I can face them.
No Roller Skating Allowed
I was confused as I peeled my face off the floor, I didn’t know if the blood was dripping from my nose or my mouth. I watched the blood droplets hit the floor in quick motion and survival mode started to kick in, I found tissues to hold to my face whilst simultaneously wiping the evidence from the floor.
I ring Mat, but no answer; I ring again, still no answer. Even if Mat gets to the studio, there’s no way I’m getting down 3 flights of stairs in roller skates to unlock the door. My head is pounding and I’m not quite sure what’s happening, but my fingers manage to fumble with the double-knotted triple wrapped around laces. I’ve done it, my feet are free from the wheels, I stumble to the toilet to check my face in the mirror. I forget there is no mirror in here.
My phone hasn’t rang. Mat isn’t coming. I need to make it home. I pull my coat and my shoes on. Switch off the heaters and turn the light off. I’m at the front door and I’m staring at the alarm system I use everyday but now I can’t fathom how it works. Fuck it, I leave and lock the door behind me.
‘Mattttt’ I shout. I‘ve made it home. The next 15 minutes still remain a blur as I come around sitting on the closed lid of the toilet seat, holding a fresh tissue to my face and tears rolling down my cheeks.
‘I’m really confused, I don’t know what’s happening’
‘Have you been roller skating in your studio?’
‘I think so’
‘You said this morning, you were going to roller skate in your studio’
‘Yes… ‘
‘Right that’s it, your not allowed to roller skate in your studio anymore, the studio is for working not roller skating’
‘But I was having a really good time, I was practicing the Mohawk turn.’
2021 Spring
You died last week, You died last week, You died last week, You died last week, You died last week,
You died last week, You died last week, You died last week, You died last week, You died last week,
You died last week, You died last week, You died last week, You died last week, You died last week,
You died last week, You died last week, You died last week, You died last week, You died last week,
You died last week, You died last week, You died last week, You died last week, You died last week,
You died last week, You died last week, You died last week, You died last week, You died last week,
You died last week, You died last week, You died last week, You died last week, You died last week,
You died last week, You died last week, You died last week, You died last week, You died last week,
You died last week, You died last week, You died last week, You died last week, You died last week,
You died last week, You died last week, You died last week, You died last week, You died last week,
You died last week, You died last week, You died last week, You died last week, You died last week,
You died last week, You died last week, You died last week, You died last week, You died last week
You died last week, You died last week, You died last week, You died last week, You died last week,
You died last week, You died last week, You died last week, You died last week, You died last week
Words turn to black marks
And the waves of emptiness crash into me
I freeze
Numb with emptiness
Anxiety emanates from my fingers
And my face cannot break
Expressionless
A lump in my throat
An ache in my back
Dizzying eyes
I feel sick to my stomach
Too many
Sugar coated bubble gum milk bottles
A pound a bag from the k market
I rub my eyes with my thumb and middle finger
Or to be more precise I put pressure on the eyeballs
My thumb has my right eye
My finger the left eye
Starting at the outer edges of each eye
I draw thumb and finger across the eyes
To meet at the bridge of my nose
The eyes are weary
Tired and sting a little
It’s all the soot
Falling
Down from the ceiling
The soot sifts down
And finds all the crevasses
Now at just past 8pm I started walking. Well not quite. I was thinking about walking. I felt a charge that I usually feel when I prepare to start walking. I want to use this charge, use it here in this space. I’m noticing the difference in perception, of how I am to be somewhere even though I am still, sitting. My time is timed and my breathing is anxious. Reality is thicker but more transparent and I feel a tiny rush of adrenaline heightening my awareness. The sound of space, undefinable white noise cooked together by a breath. The outside and inside overlap, the thought life and perceived experience experience experience. A mix of anticipation, wonder and colours with a slight pressure on my upper cheeks. I am still walking through a moment of infinite expansion. Folds are no longer folds, textures become packaging. I wonder how long I’ve been walking. The screen is bright. And my fingers make sounds and move like ants. Quick with sudden breaks. And I dream of green. My lips are dry and I lick them. Breathing in – feeling the air warming up in my mouth before it enters. I’m in the room, still. Sitting. Scratching my forehead slightly. Ok, I’m here.
From last week
Yesterday we buried a small bird. It’s been a while since one flew against the window. The fall to the floor – in slow motion. Its tail twitched for one or two seconds and then with eyes closed the bird lay still. The earth was black and the earthworms fled to the surface when I pushed the shovel into the ground.
This morning a flock of shrieking black birds circling the large pine outside that same window reminded me that I’m awake. Was it because of the marten at the base of the tree or the fall down the stairs earlier that caused all ears to tremble with peevishness.
Today you sent me a photo of a mountain
Told me you were hiking
Oh, how lovely!
You sent me a clip
Of the mountain
I could hear heavy breathing
And sounds of distant men
Oh, it’s steep!
You didn’t answer
I closed my eyes
Are you okay?
I’m ok
Are you okay?
Yes I’m okay
Okay then!
Are you sure you are okay?
You look sad
I´m happy!
Really?
YES!
OKAY THEN!
Thought I saw you last night
Standing by the door
I said hey,
hey,
hey.
May 6th
May 6th
Recorded on the 1st of May 2020
I want to say I miss you.
I would like to say I felt lonely,
walking alone in the forest.
You were supposed to come with
But you didn’t.
I was angry at you.
Angry at you for not wanting to go
And now you are leaving again
And again I feel lonely
Not because you didn’t come
But because you are leaving
the world is a much quieter place now
I can hear the birds chirp more clearly
every sound
every action
seems magnified
and yet contained
people seem less friendly
not even a smile as I pass by
instead of smiles
looks of disgust
with no real reason as to why
it will soon feel like
the early hours
all day
an extension of the quiet
and the void
just the crows
crowing.
written Thursday 19th March 2020
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I start my walk alone
but I am not alone
in the park there are lots of other people walking
keeping a distance
some people ruin the time outside
playing music from their phone, that nobody wants to hear
I walk behind an older couple
I slow my pace to match theirs
so I can keep a distance
people don’t know how to react in these times
you overtake somebody and they get annoyed
they fear you’re getting too close
dogs are barking
I stop at the sensory garden
a garden for the blind
there’s a wind chime that chimes when the wind blows
the town hall bell rings as the clock strikes 3
there’s lavender planted here
there’s almost too many people in the park
I thought of you two as I made my way through the woods
pictured you walking next to me
your footsteps mirroring mine
and we walk past yet another person, playing awful music from their phone
we pass children on bicycles
dogs and people
some people smile, others don’t
some people say hello, others go by without a word
its spring here
the time of year when the temperature changes
one minute its warm, the next it’s freezing cold
its hard to decide what one should wear
there’s a mixture of choices going on in the park today
some are dressed in hat and fleece
others shorts and t-shirt
I wear a thin jumper and a thin jacket
comfortably warm, I like to be warm
I feel more comfortable
I pass a section of the path
where trees cast a shadow, as the light shines though its branches
down onto scattered shards of stone and rock,
reminding me of a similar scene in Finland
I forgot what time of day it is, as I say good morning to someone who passes by
it’s 10 past 3 in the afternoon
I stop by the pond in the park, its covered in green algae
its quite beautiful, its trees casting a shadow on its surface
you just have to look past the rubber tyre and plastic bottle
I walk past a family of four, two young girls
each parent sat on separate benches, both with phones in their hand
paying no attention to the children
I past the pond now, from the other side
there are patterns and swirls in the algae
its like a painting, a painting in the water
all the while birds are chirping, dogs are barking
ducks are waddling
I picture you both again
but this time in your own countries, in your own landscape
and I remember they way you walk
I see your faces and you smile
and that makes me smile