Fall Lost, Endless Closer
Black dying – just the things. Could these, the minutes dying that last, fall lost (and) fulfil (a) move(?) More eyes country together; things, angels, spiral lost, five, then forever things, these call (an) endless closer before. Here please, the remember, final like the your never of of. Could perpetual lips recall my forever, the breath, things, my kiss? Ever the this, I if upon last were I, in if wish, I in into these were that before a(n) embers.
(Fall Endless)
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Published by aquiet
My work explores reading, writing and making within a Sound Arts Practice. I am addressing and searching for both the imaginary self and the transparent other through an expanded field of narrative; crossing and stepping within and through the boundaries and structures of public and private spaces. The linear and non-linear formations of spaces perceived through language and text, both visible and audible, aim to form new discourses of the imaginary, and the multiple identities that we portray.
The fluctuation between aurality, orality, the written word as visual (text; typed and hand written), and the spoken word through performance suggests an interplay between a singular and a plural self; the heterogeneous, through both truth and mythical dialogue that bridges a gap between the idea of accuracy and the imaginary. My work aims to project a representation and rejection of the absolute reality that visual representation can sometimes assume.
www.leannecunningham.com
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