Foil/Dust
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I’ve been having all these dreams about forgetting. Or remembering.

They are seemingly quite mundane but always appear fatal. I had forgotten about tea. I was given a cup. The world was 3D and I had been living as if it was 2D. What I thought was a piece of paper turned out to be skin. We have been inside a maze for fifty years and I remember the way out. I was somebody else’s imaginary friend, then suddenly real and culpable for all the decisions that I hadn’t realised I’d made.

 

One night I dreamt I’d  called up a radio help-line, Your Problems Solved, 9-10pm Every Tuesday on Tropical FM and told Jan Simon that I missed the woman I loved live on air. Jan said that was OK and produced a poem I had written aged 9 and a half for audience satisfaction.

 

The poem read:

 

On Tuesday you left for

tim

buk

tu

Andrea, Benjamin, Carlos and You,

Sent over with love to Timbuktu

If I miss you, I’ll see you soon-

Im coming to visit in my baltic canoe,

all the lost people in Timbuktu.

 

 

I remember thinking, this has to be pre-recorded.

 

-

 

When I woke up it became apparent that I was not in London but Timbuktu. The streets were all the same but I was aware of a difference. I walk past Mali Kebabs on my way to work and wonder if it was here when here was London. All the lost people in Timbuktu. Had I always lived here?

 

I’ve since come to the conclusion that perhaps there is just one location and many ways of inhabiting it. Timbuktu and London are where I walk and also here is Haiti and Rouen and probably Pluto, definitely occassionaly the 1920s or your backyard circa 1997. The sky is blue aquatint and the sand – most of what was South London is sand in Timbuktu- is coloured gold. You might say that I was happy, if you were prone to say such things. Most of what I feel now is calm, a great and unending calm.

 

Now I dream of London and of things I can’t recall.

In one dream I sit in freshly laid tarmac and watch a girl in a black polo neck walking in the opposite direction. I sit upright as if gaining consciousness and I scream. The girl stops. I do not want to disturb her journey so I become quiet.

 

She walks on. 

optiksOptikshttp://optiks.tumblr.com/post/43043398194/virare-lean-dreams-by-judson-baker-for-voguehttp://virare.tumblr.com/post/39831948544/lean-dreams-by-judson-baker-for-vogue-australia

A Robert Montgomery artwork, London. Photo Olivier Zahm
fcukingchoke誰も気にしないhttp://fcukingchoke.tumblr.com/post/29766505709http://exorcizare.tumblr.com
k-likesKate Discombehttp://k-likes.tumblr.com/post/29623523109http://pushthemovement.tumblr.com/post/29601511080
indiavolkersIndia Volkershttp://indiavolkers.tumblr.com/post/26832375431http://bbcbitesize.tumblr.com/post/16835246014/i-copied-the-original-picture-with-my-cat-lol
ON SATURDAY 

ON SATURDAY 

Peles Empire, Cabana IV, 2012
part of Minstrel and Chronicle, Hannah Barry Gallery, London
pelesempirepeles empirehttp://pelesempire.tumblr.com/post/24686202701/peles-empire-cabana-iv-2012-part-of-minstrel
STEVEN MORGANA AT LA SCATOLA 
looking lovely in the sunshine today STEVEN MORGANA AT LA SCATOLA 
looking lovely in the sunshine today STEVEN MORGANA AT LA SCATOLA 
looking lovely in the sunshine today STEVEN MORGANA AT LA SCATOLA 
looking lovely in the sunshine today STEVEN MORGANA AT LA SCATOLA 
looking lovely in the sunshine today 
got-foxgot fox?http://got-fox.com/post/22599552274/halo-of-rainbow-by-steven-morgana-using-curvedhttp://ianbrooks.me/post/17662715730/halo-of-rainbow-by-steven-morgana-using-curved
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