top of page

It's its own landscape Albert, the way it sits and waits for when I look at you and then do not

Islington Arts Space, November 2022

Group show: Reflections

Vinyl on wall, A5 paper text

Text taken from ‘If Not, Winter. Fragments of Sappho’ by Anne Carson.

Printed out on A5 was an imaginary conversation between myself and Sappho.

DSCF5890.JPG
DSCF5911.JPG
DSCF5877.JPG

Extract from text:

Margins/looser ideas

Looser

Go looser

 

Uproot – spring/propel

Reason

You or me I cried

 

 

Not everything has gone

 black and white yet,

Orange hits from across

the river

(lights within)

 

  • Am I awake

 

R: I am much more tired these days

R:

S: Repeat something enough and you find its truth like a spell

S:

R: I lost my ring in the sea earlier this year

R:

R:

R: and my heart was rock thumping

R: amongst the stones

R: inaccessible 

S:

S: Did you howl

R:

R: For the past yes

R:

S: tell me the story again

R: such an ego trip 

S: I like hearing it in your voice

R:

S: entry points talking of clacking

S: 

S: stones

R:

R:

R:

R:

R: When you type in Sappho the into Google

S:

S:

S: go on

R: You will find Sappho the hypnotist 

R: then Sappho 

R: the tenth muse

S:

R: Sappho the most beautiful thing

R: Sappho the moon has set

S:

R: until you type in the letter p

R: then you finally get to Sappho the poet

S:

S: watches as its own palette doubles back

S: looks instead

S: as well

R:

R:

S: where theres edges you will find echoing

R:

R: I gave my ring to the sea

S: 

R:

bottom of page