Feb '20

09.02.2020 - Video

I video the process, documenting movements, I consider how this will be viewed in gallery or online setting. What does it mean to be watched? How does it feel to be an artist, watching the audience consuming your work?

Watching
Wet fingertips
Swirling around
Moving the surface

You’re watching
This space is private
It’s not for others
It’s my space

You’re watching 
I can see you
process dictates
I continue

Watching
I carry on
Swirling
Repetitive movements

You’re watching
I’m now watching you
Watching me
Anticipation from the moment 

Has moved 
To this moment
The anticipation of your reaction
As you anticipate what you are watching.
                                                               *video art*

06.02.2020 - cellulose

As I undo, your essence fills the air,
You spread yourself all over me
I can feel you subtly touching my skin
Fibrous, tiny hairs adhering.
I dive my hand in a grab you
A hand full
Too much for my small fingers
awkward, rugged.
Firmly I grip and bring you up
You’re dry so I moisten you
Making you sticky in my grasp
Exploring you with my fingertips
I spread you on the glossy surface
You submit with a little resistance
Your moisture trickles out as I apply pressure
Smoothing you with fabric
Soaking up your damp puddles as I push
Taming you to my will
I’m satisfied you’re done
I leave you to rest in the sun.
                                                          *cellulose*

04.02.2020 - Gertrude Stein

Your words seem nonsensical but touch something deep inside, 
they resonate. 

That moment when you meet someone and you talk for hours and time passes without a blink. 

Leaves you longing for more. 
For the next moment to talk and share and be. 
For the next sentence to hang from, the next word to be uttered. 

The connection of sparks gathering as the electricity surges. 

The moment that you meet someone and you want them to stay forever and you want that forever to be now, for this moment to be never-ending, lasting a lifetime. 

When you search for them, at every opportunity, the connection, like magnets; the graphite standing on edge as the field comes into sight. 
The moment the attraction of mind is greater and the arousal is piqued. 

When the rhythm of your heart is the pace of their words and the tingle in your fingers is the breath from their mouth and the look in your eyes is the glistening of their skin. 
                                            *It started with Gertrude Stein*