A Stillness In Time 2006, Pastel on Board

Note: This essay accompanies my ‘Identity Art Series’.

We reduce, delete, generalise, filter and simplify the outside world to such a degree that our reality is nothing more than a guesswork lattice, mapping fragments of the vista of experience. Information is everywhere, literally. We move through the world unaware of most of the information, perceiving [...]]]> Note: This essay accompanies my ‘Identity Art Series’.

We reduce, delete, generalise, filter and simplify the outside world to such a degree that our reality is nothing more than a guesswork lattice, mapping fragments of the vista of experience. Information is everywhere, literally. We move through the world unaware of most of the information, perceiving and judging the steady stream that does make its way into our minds. Of course our consciousness couldn’t cope with much more than we currently accept, not without sacrificing some element here or there. We are indeed deletion creatures, and that brings us to the post-it note.

It has been said that the understanding can be found in the smallest grain of sand, we needn’t look out to the oceans for the understanding we have inside of us already. I write my sentence. The post-it note is a tangible indicator of our dealing with reality, we think of events in detail, filter down to key components and summarise this in writing to ourselves at a later point in time. Whenever we again look at the post-it note, we must go through that same process in reverse make meaning out of the fragmented clues we left ourselves.

What if we used the post-it note to explore our own identity, if we shattered the mirrors that look back in despair, and instead trusted in 76mm2 coloured sheets of partially adhered paper? What if that 76mm2 space became the equivalent of the entire world, what if we got lost beyond comprehension only to find our salvation in our own marks?

We once discovered the truest meaning of humanity, but forgot what it was. For years we searched and searched, but found only contempt. What if we remembered who we were, who we are and who we are going to be? What if we are already all of those things?

(2006)

It’s thirteen thirty four in the afternoon, and you’ve left me all alone, in a building where the walls hide secrets that lie inside.

There’s a difference in the air, or in your hair, but I guess it doesn’t matter, when you’re floating on your cloud, looking down, at everything you’ve ever loved and lost.

It’s [...]]]> It’s thirteen thirty four in the afternoon, and you’ve left me all alone, in a building where the walls hide secrets that lie inside.

There’s a difference in the air, or in your hair, but I guess it doesn’t matter, when you’re floating on your cloud, looking down, at everything you’ve ever loved and lost.

It’s true that you should be my queen, but instead you choose not to dream, don’t you know that time will only drain you grey.

If I offered you my hand, and took a walk along the sand, do you think that if I held you, we could go back to being friends.

All the things that went unsaid, and the thoughts inside your head, the first time, I looked deep into your eyes.

And maybe this is fate and something we can’t change, but I’ll tear down time and space, for just as long as it takes to see you face, and tell you that I love you as you are.

(January 2009)

Hello, hello, hello-

Fifteen feet, is all it takes, For my heart to miss a beat-

Everyday, you look my way, A secret, that we must keep-

It’s cold inside, this absent block, A key that fits your perfect lock.

And I wonder if our dreams collide- If we live, a life trapped, inside- This heart-shaped box, you made for me- Out of [...]]]> Hello, hello, hello-

Fifteen feet, is all it takes,
For my heart to miss a beat-

Everyday, you look my way,
A secret, that we must keep-

It’s cold inside, this absent block,
A key that fits your perfect lock.

And I wonder if our dreams collide-
If we live, a life trapped, inside-
This heart-shaped box, you made for me-
Out of hello, goodbye and nice to see-

You will, be mine, in time-
You will, be mine, in time-
In time… In time… In time-

And when, our clocks, will stop-
We’ll be, forever, locked-
We’ll be, forever, locked-

But for now, I’ll just say goodbye-
And you’ll smile, the sweetest smile..

Goodbye

(August 2008)

Washed away eyes, and vacant minds pace a distant shore, waiting for fortunes to change. Time seems to have a way of taking our lives away from us, before we’ve had chance to live. But not today. Although my clock reads 15:18, I know that I’m already late. Countless opportunities have been and gone, far [...]]]> Washed away eyes, and vacant minds pace a distant shore, waiting for fortunes to change. Time seems to have a way of taking our lives away from us, before we’ve had chance to live. But not today. Although my clock reads 15:18, I know that I’m already late. Countless opportunities have been and gone, far more than I care to remember or recount. They say that a brush with death heightens the senses; maybe I should take more risks, live a little while I still can.

It’s in my dreams that I come face to face with the coldness and finality of death, like a room long forgotten, silence and time roam free. I don’t have all the answers, and just like everyone else I’m struggling to keep afloat and make some sense of this incomprehensible world. I do know that your unquestioning eyes and sincere smile make everything ok in that moment, like medicine for the soul.

Did I ever tell you that I’m in love with you? I wish I could, and we could run away far and free, to somewhere we played when we were young. Words serve no purpose, as swings motion back and forth fleetingly. Speaking seems so unnecessary, so we just sit and live for the moment, reading each others eyes like Shakespeare’s sonnets. Why can life not be like this forever-more? To live in the gap where time and place collide. I guess I just need to share the feeling of empathy. To let go to such a point where we cease to exist as individuals and become just pure experience. Did I tell you I love you?

(April 2008)

They’d call it suicide, but I’d re-inacted my death over and over again in my dreams. Grainy images of places to dark to describe, faces of people I’ve never met using names of the people I know only to well. this is not a rehearsal. This is not the time to stop. The dream continues [...]]]> They’d call it suicide, but I’d re-inacted my death over and over again in my dreams. Grainy images of places to dark to describe, faces of people I’ve never met using names of the people I know only to well. this is not a rehearsal. This is not the time to stop. The dream continues on, and I find myself falling through a blackened sky, clouds made of oil covering a sun long burnt out. Looking down, the landscape draws further away, a shifting perspective that seems so comprehensible, despite it’s absurdity. I’m neither falling or rising, stranded somewhere, sometime for some reason, as I glance towards an antique watch. My heart pauses, seemingly along with the passage of time that stopped dead the moment I attempted to check it. Click. Click. The hands began moving again, but rather than advancing they move counter-clockwise, distorting the surroundings along with my thoughts. Could this be the edge of time? Perhaps I’ll never know, as the inertia of gravity takes hold and calls me home again.

(July 2004)

Broken sunsets fall like January’s showers, an undecipherable saturation in colours diluted to grey. Heavy hearts and faded smiles collapsed liked untethered puppets, discarded and alone, another velvet evening that seemed to wash away. The streets looked narrower than they did before, crumbling concrete houses and cardboard cut-out faces, line winding paths that fade to [...]]]> Broken sunsets fall like January’s showers, an undecipherable saturation in colours diluted to grey. Heavy hearts and faded smiles collapsed liked untethered puppets, discarded and alone, another velvet evening that seemed to wash away. The streets looked narrower than they did before, crumbling concrete houses and cardboard cut-out faces, line winding paths that fade to dust. I felt disconnected, that moment paused forever, without intention and without hope, bitterly emphasised, depressingly revoked. Time never felt so weighted as it did that day, standing on another isolated ledge, looking downwards for reassurance, finding nothing, nothing but myself.

Four weeks had passed with no hint of reconciliation or compromise, rainbow smiles turned overcast, as the last laugh if the laughter echoed on. We stood their absolutely alone in a state of unmistakable contemplation as rain washed away happier memories, just as we needed them the most. I’ll never forget that look of utter [...]]]> Four weeks had passed with no hint of reconciliation or compromise, rainbow smiles turned overcast, as the last laugh if the laughter echoed on. We stood their absolutely alone in a state of unmistakable contemplation as rain washed away happier memories, just as we needed them the most. I’ll never forget that look of utter desperation embedded deep within your eyes. feelings of separation as my heart seemed to sink further into a dark ocean, improbably magnetised, irrevocably sensitised. Perhaps days had passed but time stood frozen, locked safely inside our sacred red box of memories. Raindrops hung suspended, as photographs faded past like a valentines slide-show stuck on repeat. I watched on as visual integration with a touch of delicate imagination flickered inscribed keys inside my mind. Without thought or hesitation, yet unconsciously understated, I uttered softly the most perfect of words, an instantaneous verbalisation laced with sincerity and undeniable empathy. The movie played on, as tear-drops fell onto your warm shoulder, a bond to remain forever unbroken, a bond to withstand the savages of time.

(Feb 2005)