t he c onc r e te still wasn't dry, why anyone should decide half of our very long garden should be a big patio with bricks around it still saw dust from the arch windows being carved a tangerine colour the concrete is still wet the imprint of the dog foot two how only two how did it get there perhaps because some dried quicker than the rest of the grass now a foot print which last a long time on a long patio a space I'd brought little bits of mirror into the garden to make a dressing room for her with the cardboard I thought she might appreciate it since mum told me she had been a show dog such big black eyes long hair and a face I knew well the smell the jangel of the metal chain collar
I am singing outloud as I walk, creating melodies and funny sounds and thinking about the image or film or gestures. I've cast some objects that I feel strange. I want them to exist but I don't want them to exist, just the gestures, a couple of parts of the puzzle. Cotton fine, fine cotton. Very little else. Creating furniture using ribbon. It would be nice to print, huge huge all encompassing. Bond textures between others, hold layers, between layers. break statues and stick them. Flower pots, maybe things grow from extraordinary places. A poetry book like Pizarnik, a musical hell.
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