Friday, 17 December 2010

Dw i’n crwydro’r byd yn chwilio am nghrud


This was turned into a perfomance piece shown at Beyond text: making Unmaking at The Centre for creative collaboration, Kings Cross, London. I wove and sitting back to back with me was a man reading the text I was weaving but in a unmade remade state (it included the text shown below that is folded into the cradle. We weave our complicated lives. Behind the smile can be layers of grief, anger, loneliness. Vice versa that grumpy faced person might secretly enjoy life. Perhaps if a person goes through therapy they can unload some of the stuff. But also it is this stuff that makes us, forms us. Do we hold it or are we held by it? I print out my words onto old paper, paper that might be from my childhood, could be as old as, even older than, me. (The modern printer doesn’t like it.) It is torn lengthways and woven onto a warp of string…I have so many balls of string. These two and a half fragile pages become something else, a form, a cupped shape. I knot the warp threads then turn it inside out. Where the paper has been pressed against the card loom it is smoother. I present something smoother to the eye. I can hold it in my hand, something that can contain, something that contains in itself. Text textiles Weave leave weft left leave behind what is left? shown but hidden public but private domestic inside is a record of two strips, justified. A record of all the strips shuffled, of whole words, is made....this can be read out should I perform the making. With great care it might be possible to unweave it and make something of the written text. But then the container would be lost. The idea to create the “cradle” and the text to use for it came simultaneously. I wanted thin paper for practical reasons but also realised that I had the old typewriter paper and that it probably at least matched me for age, it was relevant. Fine paper, the sort of paper that was used for a duplicate on a typewriter, a trace a ghosting. A life time of weaving my tale, a tangle of warp that could take some more weft.
a longer piece of writing about this work will follow......eventually also see here
I have previously used the theme of wandering the world searching for my "nest" .
Dedicated to Rheinallt H Rowlands R.I.P.

Thursday, 25 November 2010

road trip planned



found on an old map of Cornwall
performance writing?

Sunday, 14 November 2010

5 non standard pages - not presented #2


Blodeuwedd was made from flowers and turned into an owl as punishment. Some say she needs to be flowers again, i say she needs to be both owl and flowers.
For more information click here
reconcile /,ri:k¥n,sail/ v.tr 1 Make friendly again after estrangement. 2 (usu. in refl. or passive; foll. by to) make acquiescent or contentedly submissive to (something disagreeable or unwelcome) (was reconciled to failure). 3 settle (a quarrel etc.). 4 a harmonize; make compatible. b show the the compatibility of by argument or in practice (cannot reconcile your views with the facts)
reconcilement the bringing to agreement things at variance

Tuesday, 9 November 2010

5 non standard pages - not presented #1


above: in the bag, the pages inside (spac[e] not showing clearly)
below: inside



for a text of over 1000 words about this piece please click here

Tuesday, 2 November 2010

manifesto

mynd y tu hwnt y'r pwynt yma

relax and assume the position (Devo)

the word is y gair
the rabbit is y chwningen

I choose celibacy (before it chooses me). Or at least meet it half way if/as I am a little late in my choosing

no gendering is accurate

purity does not exist (unless you want to talk chemistry
mud exists.
comic sans exists but maybe it shouldn't
heirachies , except on the page, should not exist

skin does not reveal inner beauty

egg moons are the best moon, whether they are waxing or waning

don't worry, when words confound resort to the body.
The words that speak up from the mangled bodies of human beings. This is the fallout that covers everything on earth now....Fact is the train don’t come on time for nobody except those who should walk all the way to hell on their own backs. (Kenneth Patchen)
go beyond the point here. I am itinerant.
They also serve who only stand and wait (Milton)
Are all your selves in agreement? (cLOUDDEAD)

Monday, 18 October 2010

MA in the reading room (Arnolfini, Bristol)



A sculptural book of found words and a card of explaination/theory.

Text:
A Thousand Plateaus, Deleuze & Guattari
Found in the room (D&G were found in room too)

recycled paper & envelope. card: 300g/m2 canson montval

Monday, 27 September 2010

hwyl

beth yw hwyl?

not really [this entry on wikipedia has changed since I made the link!] but is a bit, especially the bit about sailing on a sea of good feeling. better, but only in a pedestrian way.

ysbryd filled with air, gyda bywyd

a place can have it, a person can be full of it...and you'd defnyddio it to say goodbye.

good feeling with breath....

Thursday, 5 August 2010

found

the real problem, I see it in my lucid moments, is the incapacity of language, to deal with the complexity of life when categories become fluid.....

found on a scrap of paper, I think I wrote this in about 1998 when researching dissertation for fine art BA.

Friday, 30 April 2010

They Said



They said if I ever betrayed them
they’d climb up through the floor boards
and tie the dog’s ears to
a tea towel
I said apron strings would be more useful
they said it was not possible to climb through apron strings
I disputed that
but thought the debate would last all night
and there wasn’t time
as the dogs flapping ears testified.
The red carpet wrapped around the green shoes
and slowly but surely
the tea towel was pulled from under our feet with incredible discretion
they politely said
enough was enough
I also disputed that
because red is just too
much
even the dog knows that
but because of the angels
we thought it best to keep quiet on that one
generally speaking it never quite works
I’m sure it’s the whiskers
I never betray even the longest Apron Strings
they are usually flowery and I don’t see that it matters anyway.
Pink has always been important to me
thick to the back teeth pink
the sound of a silent room sort of pink
so pale it’s not white
dense fog
cat curling pink

A plant game for the Arnolfini, Bristol.




All plants used in this game were found within several metres of the building – even right up against it. All were recorded on March 29th 2010.

Each plant has 4 cards containing different information. Different ways of reading the plants, translations.

A sentence of response from me. A list of names in different languages. An action.
A layman’s description
A more technical description
Traditional uses. What I would use it for.

The Game:
Cut up the cards shuffle text side up. Sort out the cards for each plant. Turn over the cards to see if you are right!

Additions to the game: actions:

7 people can do their actions simultaneously by reading their instructions first. They could read their instructions one at a time. Or one person could read aloud the instructions. The plants could be found outside and the actions performed beside them. Or any other way you may devise to play.


The 7 plants are:

Common Chickweed Stellaria media
Common Mouse-ear Cerastium fontanum
Dandelion Taraxacum officinale agg
Groundsel Senico vulgaris
Herb Robert/stinking Bob Geranium robertianum
Petty spurge/stinking milkweed Euphorbia peplus
Sheherd’s purse Capsella bursa-pastoris



I have used various references and my own long collected information. In particular: Reader’s Digest Field Guide to Wild Flowers of Britain; The Wild Flower Key, Francis Rose, Warne; Culpeper’s Complete Herbal; Mrs Grieve’s Modern Herbal

contact fflofflach@yahoo.co.uk for further details, the booklet is £6.00 including 2nd postage to UK. It comes perforated for instant use or unperforated (perforated could enable the quick witted to cheat a little at the game...)

see a map and pictures here

see all the text
here

Monday, 15 March 2010

// /_

incline list leaning // slanting sloping shifting slip // tilt tipping topple/_