i found lots of words, some might be already read, i can’t remember what I’ve shared here or in txts, or what i wrote but forgot to send. so i took all these words and just put them together, one after the other, because they obviously meant something when i wrote them, and i don’t want to loose them, even though all the moments have long since passed.


sand that is as old as the earth
water heals
love light in the night

the sun shines
heads on our shoulders
moments pass freely

holding hands
our hearts in our fingers
touching without moving

escape structures

reduce our concrete walls into fields of colour

my heart is made from olive

one thing can’t be compressed without another expanding

factories in fog
but the most beautiful sunrise i have ever seen
stillness of trees
everything is equal

there is no sequence that describes how any one moment or idea might be placed in relation to all
order of transforms is not important because all moments are equally important

(some seem to be more important than others)

as if from nothing
lines form patterns
unhide curves and fissures
hope and loss

everyday leaves an imprint

doll was going to be alchemy
but something got lost
and so she was abandoned again

this project is unfinished
it just needed to be rested for a while
and now finding these pictures
nerve is never resolved
fragments, residues
beauty and horror

i need to rescue her, she is burning
(but don’t worry, she does not feel pain, she is just a plastic doll)

the work of a few very brave people who lived many hundreds of years ago needs to be kept alive
it is in our hearts
maybe in our wildest moments
we share more than atoms with the lonely alchemists of long ago
but i have no idea how to do it
(Jung knew)
there is an idea for an installation…
i can see it, there are wires connecting objects with drawings
maps, paths drawn out in sand on the gallery floor
glass vessels
structures that describe what it feels like

i’m sure the answers lie in doll
but she cannot speak

pond life
dots become lines
lines become forms
if there is any truth to be found, it starts here
tiny things trying to become alive
always true to themselves





the lawyer was born as a pear
he was wise and like an egg
he fell asleep on peppers
and guacamole was born

el abogado nació como una pera
era sabio y como un huevo
se quedó dormido en pimientos
y guacamole nació

when we lie awake in the middle of the night
not remembering the previous day or wishing for tomorrow
yet we still cannot enjoy the present moment
(we wish to be anywhere else)
why is this?
why do we drive ourselves to distraction & destruction?
these photos are just from my phone, untouched
but will be used to create a second layer of truth about moments
which i will then confuse with a more fundamental truth
because in the process of constantly reducing and returning
forms unhide themselves
and the hope of seeing them almost creates peace

none of these moments existed in the way you see them now
they are not what i saw or was feeling
(strangely, in the brief act of taking a photograph it often seems that thoughts are also suspended)
when the light was fixed in 1s and 0s
the moments became unreal
a separation occurred
a rift opened, that can never be healed
which leads to the question,
what exactly is being represented here?

When I said earlier that I’d be glowing tonight,
it wasn’t just because of the sun…

it’s your love, I feel it in your smile
radiating warmth from a shining heart
and your beautiful eyes,
your gentle restful touches
and our wonderful hugs that we fall into anytime

When you wrap your arms around my neck
I simply want to absorb you closer,
a sharing loving until our souls touch

I didn’t feel like I slept much last night,
because I soooo blissfully enjoy lying in bed with you
(and also my tiger-senses are always awake, to protect you)

but I woke up feeling not at all tired,
instead feeling like I’m floating on a calm sea of duvet
and beautifully creased sheets
every little movement in the sleeping night is like we just want to stay in in touch,
so gently connected

radiation is about absorption and release
where there is life there is also an afterglow
an urgency, a will to deny shadows
but we know there is really no escape

love is for family, sons and daughters
and all the sons and daughters that are born of them
with the weights of their parents upon their memories

in an endless chain that links long forgotten moments
like woollen strings, constantly unravelling
multiplying, cascading, all going their own ways

love is for family
but peace is only found in you, only you
no one else can make your peace

plenty of time to sleep when you’re dead
well, that maybe so, but for me
sleep only matters when we are alive

how do these words write themselves?
they are only like street lamps
reflecting in the road when it’s raining

and the night…
so quiet and peaceful
I’m awake most of it

and when you wake up at sunrise
it’s like it’s all been a dream
and I just want to fall asleep

night sublime morning
lonely but something deeper in the soul
exactly this, heart questions
and the feeling of loss in emptiness rather than peace
the feeling of draining away
that even love can’t soothe
(when we doubt)
always always, always
we’re in a dream

slips easily like
swelling waves peaceful calm
how it feels to be called someone elses name
oh, so.

When I lifted my head slightly off the pillow, neck straining, the whirring sound stopped. After many nights of doing this, as if checking whether the sound existed in its own right, outside my head, was a first step towards finding its source. I had no idea what I’d do once I’d identified the source, I was convinced it originated outside my room, but how far?

(many years later, i realised it was just the sound of my watch ticking, when it was placed on the floor by my bed. to have so many sleepless nights, all because of listening to time ticking away!)

When we close our eyes and sink into something stranger than awake, we assume it’s a process of shutting off, but I’m starting to think that it’s more about switching on. We loose conscious control but something else comes to the surface, cat-like senses and looping thoughts

A dream i remember:
In her apartment a woman
she is someone I know, perhaps my mentor or a friend, it is unclear who she is (I don’t recognise her from real life)
she shows me a book made of wax and plaster 3″ x 2″
there is a larger A3 book on the wall but she wouldn’t lend me that, it was special and couldn’t be lent out.

there are shapes and figures in the books
all white with form only because of relief and shadows
I hold the book and look at it, I can see it very clearly (as you might see a mist clearly)
and the dream ends and I realise that the book is something I have to make.
that dream was over a year ago, i still haven’t made the book, but I will do one day, I believe in the dream.

(i think she was an angel, sending me a message)

we should be sleeping
allow the winter to heal
but instead we see everything falling apart in clear sight
there is a swell of internal
when everything on the outside is turning cold
always fighting doubt until the light goes out

perhaps it is an alchemical truth
that the sky is always blue
but most of the time purity is hidden from us
and then when we find the blue
it is only gas molecules scattering the sun
the atmosphere thins to a layer
beyond which there is only emptiness
which is not really empty
no matter how far you look or travel
there is no emptiness to be found

a glass paperweight
which was an embryonic fluid and gaseous structure
and so here it is on my shelf, frozen at birth
when all the physical forces reached a moment of clarity

…and when you look back on a chance encounter

a coincidence of things seemingly outside of your control

you realise that in fact all moments are potentially like these

every moment is unique and therefore holds a secret waiting to be observed, unlocked

beauty, peace, breathless moments

they do not discriminate

some illusions are however more obvious than others

perhaps they exist, as diamonds and gold do

to remind ourselves that there is nothing that they can do

that the base elements cannot do also, in essence

(as one carbon molecule said to another…)

all the 3 elements are in balance: light, sound, chance

catch them when they appear together

and then let them go

her smile is a heart
and everyone who knows her feels it

when she is sleeping eyes closed
and I can feel her warm breath

her lips naturally relax into a smile
that makes me feel so at peace and in love

and I feel her beautiful heart
with every embrace

she couldn’t possibly know
like the sun doesn’t know

how it’s warmth keeps us alive

I don’t ever want anything more than your arms around me in the middle of the night, or your gentle breathing on my neck in the morning light

love is not made, it just exists
and we have to enjoy it

today, love was waiting for a bus in the rain
and being there with her
and then later worrying did she get home ok
and then finding out that she did
and my love grows in all these little simple moments