Thursday, 27 August 2009

I have a small book that goes to New York without me then comes back again

Most cities hum. NY throbs. The Subway is the circulatory system for this place, the life force. Cars are here for show, most people walk, take the subway or bus, that's why the cars have to make so much noise, to be noticed.

Wednesday, 26 August 2009

Dear Robert Tuckwell I have decided that seeing as I do not know you it would be imprudent to fall in love or Extract from a letter to Robert Tuckwell

An art museum made out of pink, white and yellow paper run through with shadows cast by a miniature artificial sun. I walked the walls and ceilings until I understood the gravity of the imagined. If I mapped and reduced the trails I leave as I cross and cross this city their bleached and condensed shape might resemble the museum as seen from above. I have maps that will answer your questions. I am not known for my ability to imagine architects or the possibility of confining and redefining matter into space. You have forced mastery over things such as bricks, sand and sunlight. I understand this is something they teach in universities. My desk lies in artificial shadow, light blocked by a drawing and the direction to lay bricks, uproot trees and lock panes of glass in channels made of wood. I might once have thought the word homemaker was something of an insult or a self-remedy for failure. This has revealed more than it should.


Won't somebody scry for Baudrillard? He's plotting a notion to take away my Antarctica. I am loading the torpedo bays with minatures.

Sunday, 23 August 2009

I run with scissors so that I may cut flowers from gardens if they please me

The house on the corner of Alma Avenue is set square and terrifying, the drop from the rooftop enough to reconfigure your idea of broken bones. A vase in the front window displaying a bunch of artificial hydrangeas in white. No furniture is immediately visible from street level. Through one of two narrow side windows, found before a heavily secured door and situated several metres down Alma Avenue, a print of Wheelflower by Margaret Preston can be seen if you stand on your toes. It is an ordinary print and not grand in size or frame. All lights on the upper levels burn bright. Rendered in wedding cake cream and sculpted with plaster replicas of I know not what plants a decorative bas relief spreads above the large front window. The window itself draped with a perfectly white sweep of evenly parted curtains. The function of this house remains unclear.

On the corner of Phillip and Charles streets, as ordinary as ice cream, stands a single-story miniature of the monolothic sculpted cream and coffee terrace. This house appears to be lived in.

Saturday, 22 August 2009

Sign, signifier, signified.

I've been reading without my reading glasses, this is because I am hardcore. I am considering this my hard-fought triumph over Sassaure.