Yellow lids and the greed ripples padding
to the left,
no sorry, to the right.
Over the canal lobby cry
right at me – glancing
Mallard is in, the others
follow behind
blocks of uneven cubes laid to rest
lay with me as I sit
with Brunell –
they come and they go,
exit and leave
sky blue shell – she’s left already
sheldon square now sees me
where the red gas cans stand
walking upward and over,
the air becoming colder.
I’ve been here before –
my entry here on training
my exit in a bed I’ve never slept,
with people I’ve never met.
phone calls I don’t understand;
images break with words
nosense and falling apart – the language is failing me.
Unspeakable moments never heard,
conversations I can’t understand
on Friday I’ll feel the physically sick
and that’s all I understand about it.
Hide and design.
Be the runner, the rider and the rower,
… stand there unreal.
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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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