Mute Eyry Morons, Thirsted Whirs Oil, FILM, 06:10 Min, 2018

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Sound This work was shown at Creep, a multidisciplinary arts event I ran, in February, 2018.

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The poem spoken within the piece is as follows:

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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.

 

A lesson to call out the void.

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