Installation, film, four creatures, seats, poem hanging, fabric canopy. Exhibition, 2018, St Margarets House.
Mute Eyry Morons, Thirsted Whirs Oil
Can you remember my face? I can’t remember yours.
We only eat cardboard and air here.
And it smells of old bones.
My home is crowded but we only live in one place,
unlike you who has both existences. In web and life although they have become one.
I don’t know if we are truer than you or if we don’t exist at all.
All that is on my news feed is food and drink
and my only messenger is this voice and
the only events that happen are sleep and when awake
we exchange though not through a place
I don’t reckon we are more reductive than you but we are not your normal.