Friday, 18 January 2013

word of the day part sixty-two | allegory


al·le·go·ry [ˈælɪgərɪ]

a. The representation of abstract ideas or principles by characters, figures, or events in narrative, dramatic, or pictorial form.
b. A story, picture, or play employing such representation. John Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress and Herman Melville's Moby Dick are allegories.

2. A symbolic representation

Middle English allegorie, from Latin allgoria, from Greek, from allgorein, to interpret allegorically : allos, other; see al-1 in Indo-European roots + agoreuein, to speak publicly (from agora, marketplace; see ger- in Indo-European roots).]

allegorist | n
allegories | n. pl.

Friday, 11 January 2013

Friday, 4 January 2013

edited prose chapters three, four and five

Work is still being carried out on the edited prose project and now may have actors who can carry out the reading of the script that I am developing. Here is the next three installments that I have worked on and now due to type up the next chapters that I have finished editing.


Chapter Three:

The wind peered down casting a bleary orange light an interwoven tapestry of alarms added for spice imploding in enormous heat the light of the fire his small intelligent face looked north now and he pointed ahead and to the right among the silent multitude watching were several dozen abandoned cars there was little talk the majority of people gawking looked eligible for the younger set he noticed something else about the bridge away from sweet interest there seemed to be no harm just the same around the others paced in this unaccustomed darkness.

The plump woman meanwhile kept nodding look kindly with interest and dismay even as maggots flee the ghosts shapes of darkness the word of god pulled the punch at the last second still looking stunned and horrified the punch and the two subsequent catches a light fixture in the small mans voice part cut rate choked the edge of a low pink building fronted by a battery powered a target in the aftermath of the plump woman’s arm they eased her to a sitting position dazedly snapped fingers he spoke with that same cold briskness in some lunatics parody your self righteous holy rolling somebody cancelled this afternoon once they were walking near the stop sign men were forced to guess he spat blood in a thick weepy accent.

Although he had diminishing light the bald man thought it over and laughed some of the characteristics running down the side of his face I wouldn’t stay this close watch out for the waiting the moon emerged from the wrack of cloud silver now instead of that awful infected orange the house was trim and handsome exhausted and bordering on hysteria don’t know if I’d call it beautiful feeling both alarm and fatigue the talking apocalypse blues a greeting from the inside the enclosed porch stroking the associated with men living calm lives followed.

The unfamiliar surroundings rattled a little it seemed like a moment to think of all the things coming in through the window a little scream that made self contempt wince in the dark then to quiet he could hardly whisper the dim shape of the spring out on a framing as harsh as a crows caw we crossed the bridge the way it drove away every single leaping fantastically up the wall the strangest smile he had ever seen had bleached the tiniest twinkle of teeth was disorienting even if the lights at the back in the harsh pink and purple the cat twirled beside the crumpled paper no one said anything at a complete loss.

Like a paper doll always facile and always obliging something exploded with dim silence he imagined purring eyes floating disembodied in the dark without ceremony in the hall convinced the quiet place doesn’t burn as soon as its light those industrial towns might argue the point the hypothetical deserted long before they saw me watching trying to indicate that they couldn’t defend against everything I think I know the answer to this.

Chapter Four:

The movement made muscular urking sounds if we’re going to put our sensibilities on hold a second time the third time replaced by registration even in hunting season the circle of was brilliant the sort of intuition that could be relied upon turns out to be nothing more than a layer of shellac going north with no protection the most likely explanation that technology exists on a provisional basis some signal or pulse could transmit a directive impossible population becomes the dominant form those cobwebs could have encoded the affected he couldn’t finish maybe mostly he could feel fall from his eyes his subconscious mind tried to sleep through identified shrieks almost high enough to burst through crystal the comforter would draw the dead calm and soothing gasps for breath inarticulate cries become words in the deep trench of night seemed to good to be true pale anxious and grizzled he kept his voice low in the half finished glass the bolt holding it closed quietly feel the sleep warmth still radiating from her skin he smashed the wheel he’d forgotten all his mother had taught him about the aggression that now hung in tatters his vacant face was making a repetitive noise that sounded like he had finally ran out of juice the old mans gaze examined the rest he seemed not to notice the pitched battle outside it was a gesture so normal the old man fell on his knees he raised his lined face to the brightening sky then he lifted the line of descent stained hands twisted through the glass the went limp an alarm began to bray at some distance all the perishables broken into segments by venetian blinds the projected shadows pass swiftly across them neither of them took any pains at all to avoid being seen the observer took over the cold hearted artists eye prompted by surprise drawn by the braying alarm they were all walking in the direction of the immediate future they are all light in the same tree it was a flock minded thing remember me mentioning the man who lives on the other side that came down gunshot very brief there and gun as if cut off newsreel footage of bombers flew across the sky as for the vacant eyed now passing before him had pestered thinned but didn’t stop mostly obliterated in the distance trying to protect her almost silent applause stiff and unfamiliar it was painful the urge to touch would have been biting the long distance ones might hack the wrong signal talking about steel skeletons gave a laugh that was both hysterical and rueful a dizzy combination he couldn’t remember feeling like a traitor a few people wandering the easterly flow something so subtle his eye only saw intuition she feel as silently as a poleaxed steer gunfire continued to pop sporadically while without falling asleep she paused for a moment at the door he grunted in amusement an afternoon nap twitched but didn’t bite they passed swinging in unison bawling inarticulate teeth almost entirely empty there was no telling how well the street might hear her reference had been greeted with outright howls in leaving the house it was a profound dread of looking stylish and miserable purring and looking bored with no more that a slight narrowing of the eyes a horizontal wrinkle running both ways he glanced a hole through them they had been over this before someplace in the distance there’s safety in numbers.
(unedited chapter)

Chapter Five:

Rolling at her for a moment he was almost relieved a sickly smile snapped murmuring almost a parody of interrogation wounds spoke a terrible blank language of their own his first impulse had been to avert his eyes the sound of feet quickly ascending something awful wasn’t enough growling in that savage nonsense language made more comfortable with a hot one in the chamber this old whore you just had with ease looked down at the remains he whispered but he doubted can you figure out how to make decisions she looked at me.

Rainy daylight broke through the clouds flocking back in the direction that looked familiar carrying the flocking behaviour interrupted pointing obvious battery powered telepathic group think squeezing him a fleeting distracted smile close to breaking he saw nothing but the overpowering smell of the moon preferred dreams automatic but who can resist racing in and out of the clouds like an illustration fully loaded bucolic pilgrims had crashed through the outskirts with the assurance of fact and asking questions.

Deserted next generation urban myth waved to them in companionable fashion with mild contempt a word to the wise his head ignored the people at the border they’re travelling in packs she was on the street holding her talisman the world was going to line up and make patterns it was skipping like hell that exactly why you had to be careful to act like one of them you might have a chance a break get inside somewhere a pedestrian broke through long enough stood like dead pylons a token response in the momentary moonlight I need something to hold.

An abandoned feel at the edge of a dream she was having more detail glared sightlessly for a moment broken glass littering a sense of fatalism the quickest route tracing a thread on the map meant crawling through a four mile hike to the line assuming to liberate the drip of moisture and an occasional sigh stopped briefly he had found a way to curl up inside and fall asleep the heroes of science realized what was so dispiriting about this little scene a pocket rocket between the wrecks muttering resentfully. Are we supposed to laugh when the bottom drops out security shrugged.

It's been awhile since

It has been a few months since I've inputted anything into this blog and things have been busy both in my creative and personal life. I have been to Glastonbury to witness their annual carnival which went well as expected, had a part in an exhibition at Didsbury Parsonage, started a collage project which involves collecting envelopes and cutting them into squares and then making mosaic/pixel collages..this project has had a few tumbles which are now getting ironed out, I got engaged and now at this moment..moving into a new house and organising a home studio.

I was invited to go on holiday with my then new boyfriend and now fiance to Glastonbury to attend the annual Carnival. I thought this carnival would be quite twee and wholesome but what transpired was a grand event of coloured lit-up trucks with costumed participents parading through the town.. As we had friends in living in town we went to their local pub to see the festivities, at the Samuel Beckett. We went to this pub quite a few times during our stay in town and had quite a good time there, they even had a book exchange which I promptly used. We had a meal at the Whodathoughtit?, I had a lovely deconstructed vegetarian Mushroom Wellington and spent a couple of hours at the George and Dragon which appeared on the Haunted Britain TV series hosted by Michaela Strachan.

We went to the Glastonbury Tor which is where I was proposed to, the Glastonbury Abbey and then to Chalice Wells where we drank the waters and bathed our feet in the foot spa; which was freezing may I add..but was lovely. We had a trip to Stonehenge on our way to Bradford upon Avon and a day to out in Ilfracombe to see Damien Hirst's new installation, Verity in the harbour there.

A few photographs of Glastonbury's Carnival 2012.

The day trip to Ifracombe was interesting though..I thought it was just down a motorway but was a one hour and a half trip to get there. We specifically went there to see Verity and have tea at Hirst's cafe/restaurant which we did. After a quick pint of local scrumpy in a bar and a little detective work, we made our way to the installation. It was still having some maintenance work but we made our way to one side and then moved around to the other more skeletal side to see which we both preferred. I liked both but had a thought that it was just placed there like an errant child would leave a toy soldier.

Don't get me wrong though..with all it's negative press and the media coverage with her on her back with a leg protuding in the air like a burlesque dancer, I quite liked the piece..very Ray Harryhausen in a Clash of The Titans kinda way. He seems to have got the spot really since he lives local (I think) and has his restaurant just around the corner..I had a pot of tea. I enjoyed the day out and welcomed the chance to go and see the much hyped installation.

Verity in the harbour, Ifracombe.

Disbury Parsonage Exhibition:

Since we had planned the trip to Glastonbury before the invite to participate in the exhibition, I spent a week trying to arrange transport of my two light boxes to Didsbury all to no avail though. Having been rejected for the Collagerie Exhibition and having two pieces available, I promptly arranged to have these sent via the postal service on the day that we made our way to Glastonbury..I even added a few other pieces in case they wanted some other work.

They showed the two other pieces at the show and on the last day of the and my fiance made our way to Didsbury. There was some good work being shown specifically Emma Hardaker and Marcin Wozniak. The whole show was put on by John Lynch with Higgins and Renshaw curating. It was good being involved with a group show again and I quite enjoyed the whole experience, I just wished that I had shown my lightboxes though.

Piece for Didsbury Parsonage

New Work:

This is what I have been compelled to make in last month..I am working on a large A1 sized version of these collages..

Various Polaroids:

Glastonbury Abbey and Glastonbury Tor


Ilfracombe Harbour


Yorkshire Sculpture Park Oct' 2012