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.

 

 

 

On the footsteps

 

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.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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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the sounds of market street
feel, listen, breathe

Wand. It is in two pieces now and blue.

I found it on the forest floor and carried it all the way. It turned leaves and rocks around and looked into holes until it broke.

It’s blue now.

April 15th – Audio

 

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