Found MDF Text Series
Central Saint Martins, London | June 2022
As part of All of a Sudden I Held a Carcass in My Hands (and I Could Not Bury It) Installation
A Party (A Funeral) - charcoal on MDF, 29.5cm x 25.4 cm
when I encounter an object, and make the distinct decision to possess it, I am saying, this object is staying with me forever. ME! ME! ME! this is mine, and I want to look casually upon it, with no complications, no trappings of another’s gaze, only my own. own. OWN! I OWN you! I OWN the history and place you bring with you, even if to me, it is unknown. unknown. UNKNOWN! Unown. When the inevitable parting arrives __, we’ll throw a party, we’ll throw a funeral. it’s going to be either you or me. one of us is going to break, deteriorate, be unowned and be unknown to the world. but we will always be known to each other. yet our memories are a fickle tickle, painful, harrowing. a memory of you might be replaced by a memory of me. I _will laugh out of pain. I might have never known you, unknowned you, unowned you at all. you might have owned me. you possibly knew me. but you can never know me, [k]now.
and that is why we are throwing a party, a funeral. balloons galore.
To Be Crushed to Smithereens - charcoal on MDF, 25.4 cm x 35 cm
to be crushed to smithereens
I want to go by train
I will kneel on the tracks to pray
that I will truly be forgotten.
I hope the wheels slice and dice me
and stop this routine echo
once and for all.
I want to go by train,
and by train, I will go.
I Clench My Fists Against the Glass - charcoal and pencil on primed MDF, 60 cm x 60 cm
caught a glimpse of a rainbow. can’t remember the last time I did. I don’t remember that rainbow. maybe it was out of a train window. I hope it was out of a train window. it can only be through a train window. I only want to see through a train window. I want to be a constant observer surviving on the rattling of the tracks, the wheezing of the locomotive as it slows down. I want to sit back in my seat and get comfortable in its belly. I don’t think time passes the same way in here. it is a luxury. I am blind anywhere else. I can only see through this train window.
these drunk, days ease petal my wounds with the potential to heal. I clench my fists against the glass. I am only capable of thinking of the past in here. I am unable to propose any moment apart from right now. I can only see through this train window. this train makes life out of the unmoving. there is no real standstill. this constant need to go somewhere means I only see things that are moving. and they are moving. I cry about it sometimes. my tears float in the cabin. maybe I saw the rainbow through them. tinkling like wishing bells. I inhale all the colours and let them crawl onto my hands, dislocating my jaw. I could hear my teeth tingling in response. I held it gingerly, it was still tender. “Please stay here with me forever,” I whispered to it. It slithered and swished around, a pool in my palms. “I suppose I could use a vacation,” it decided. “I suppose you could,” I said. “I suppose you could.”
I suppose I did catch a glimpse of a rainbow. but I can’t remember the last time I did.