I think it's very interesting that whilst I've been returning to the late 1990s and early 2000s through my writing, all of a sudden things that were popular then, are reappearing everywhere for me now - and I'm speaking specifically about popular things from between 1998, and 2003, rather than the general 1990s nostalgia that's… Continue reading Upward spirals – cultural returnings, and depressive ontology.
Sometimes when I gaze into my eyes I think they look like bottomless pits. Especially when I look at them in tube windows and they meld into the upside down version of me visible in the curve. They become void orbs gazing out of the blackness of the tube behind, distorted by speed, and the… Continue reading Snow Wonder
I have just returned from a weekend in London. I don't live there anymore, because for a while I couldn't handle the threads of connection that seemed perfectly positioned to trip me up, entangle me, and not let me go. My histories were bleeding through and, in not having any defences left to keep… Continue reading LossScapes
The work of Hugh Hamshaw Thomas suggests a kind of many layered spectrality, and ties it, irrevocably, to notions of place. His work, Swan, which was first shown in the RA’s Summer Exhibition 2018, is indicative of this kind of layering of space. It is a photograph of the lake in Highams Park, created in… Continue reading Arcadian dream pool: Hugh Hamshaw Thomas, Bergson, and memory.
I drew the above diagram in a seminar after the death of Mark Fisher in 2017. I was trying to explain how I felt about my own losses previously; and how I felt being in the university environment without Mark there. Grief-space is a term which I coined for the space, or hole, that is… Continue reading Illustrating Grief-Space
1st January 2019 Birmingham to Oxford https://open.spotify.com/track/7Jh1bpe76CNTCgdgAdBw4Z Sometimes I'll be doing something like riding a train homewards. gazing out of the window at the sun sinking lower into the horizon, listening to David Bowie's 'Heroes' at the point where Bowie sounds like he's going to cry, or like the very act of his singing is… Continue reading Excerpts from journeys
I find a photograph of your hands tucked in an important place in the book i am reading: Hidden Valleys by Justin Barton. The line it is marking out - ‘a gap is a place through which new worlds arrive’ - strikes me as pertinent. Here is a moment where you are appearing from an… Continue reading An open letter to a lost future