1. |
Suspension
06:54
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The little plane on the video screen crawls slowly over the map of terrain,
green line ahead,
yellow behind,
at varying scales,
its length stretching halfway from Vienna to Bratislava,
Berlin to Istanbul,
and sometimes the entire width of the European mainland.
I practice trying to be very small, and still, to sleep.
At 3:30am London time, it gets light. The air temperature outside is minus 52 degrees celcius.
Listening to the sound I recorded earlier on my phone.
The sound of suspension,
suspended in space,
in the air,
suspended in time,
the low continuous rushing sound,
and then the quiet sound of my neighbour’s snoring;
the Airbus A380 is a small town of sleeping strangers at 37000ft above the ocean.
Turbulence over India.
Aches in my neck, lower back, buttocks, right thigh.
I’ve found that if I sit still enough, eventually I’ll feel less uncomfortable,
or fall asleep, whichever comes first.
Comfort is relative.
Time is relative.
This ‘morning’ which is 7:35 London time,
“apple or sandwich?”
is 14:34 Singapore time,
but what is local time at this point on the planet?
How do I calculate that?
If the ground is that zone below, on, and above the surface of the earth,
determined by being inhabited by humans,
sustaining human activity,
how far above and below the surface does that zone extend?
Is this airspace an extension of the ground?
Woken for breakfast, 9am London time, 4pm Singapore time, two hours from Singapore…
The gradual change in altitude on descent seems to impose an equalising filter on hearing,
sounds become thin to the point where the bass has all but become inaudible,
the middle frequencies also subside to leave tinny top end,
pressure in the ear becomes physically palpable,
almost painful.
I swallow and ‘plop’, the bass returns.
Soon after landing in Singapore
11am London time,
6pm local,
it gets dark,
six and a half hours drifting in and out of twilight.
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2. |
Polylingual
03:38
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3. |
Sickness Country
09:30
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scramble up from the track
in the breath of the heat on the wind
past the smoke of the fire
scrubby grass and the river is dry
butterflies, blackened tree
plateau, savannah, falls, and floodplain
pandanus spiralis
stones underfoot, the walk to the ridge
and there Myormu
waiting for me
sickness country
and in rock escarpment
in the deep past
Miyamiya
and the camera phone
brow trickles waterfall sweat to the ground
from the mountain below
Google Earth, or a video drone
as the ground is above
captures fatal painting photograph
the rainbow came through
tail lights and explosions below
and this sickness country
all that you can see
is what you’re told
you can see [to see]
peripheral night
soon after twilight
flashes of light
when the sickness takes hold
nausea, vomiting, appetite loss
dehydration, confusion
cells degraded by autophagy
bone marrow syndrome
cutaneous blisters ulcers
sweat glands atrophy
DNA clustered damage takes hold
somewhere…
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4. |
Grounded
07:07
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and in the water
as in the sky
out on the moor, the blasted moor
the trees are moving
we’re from the ground
eroded hillsides
the tracks run through
the mountainside, denuded earth
pine mixed with oak
we’ve gone to ground
sun in the desert
moon on the dune
fog from the woods rolls through the plain
into the valley
above the ground
the icy tundra
the permafrost
the standing stones, the burial mound
along the hedgerow
we’re in the ground
the ancient ruin
the midden heap
advancing shadows, in the clearing
by the salt lake
we’re on the ground
abandoned bunker
lost in the wood
tumbling down into the mineshaft
into the future
we’ve gone to ground
and in the water
lost in the wood
fog from the woods rolls through the plain
into the future
below the ground
eroded hillsides
moon on the dune
tumbling down into the mineshaft
into the valley
above the ground
sun in the desert
the midden heap
the mountainside, denuded earth
by the salt lake
we’re on the ground
the ancient ruin
the tracks run through
advancing shadows, in the clearing
the trees are moving
along the ground
abandoned bunker
as in the sky
out on the moor, the blasted moor
pine mixed with oak
we’re from the ground
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5. |
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in the landscape
dry and dusty
something stirring
after the fire
mushroom weather passing through
elusive enigmatic
neither plant or animal
the mushroom makes the forest
the symbiopoietic
self-organising system
through mycorrhizal networks
the mushroom makes the forest
stripped back down to its binary code
in assemblages of objects
termites larvae and crow tree sand
the snouts the limbs the branches brush the sky
insect eye fruit
pushing from soil
berry lush trees
fertile and loam
the fauna in the flora
simultaneous assemblage
a pineapple animal
with cauliflower foliage
on the broccoli mountain
the pandanus umbrella
the fauna in the flora
shadows cast dry river bed
the glacial sky and tree mountain
with fruiting bark, eyes in the sand
trees with face and feathered branch
the green fruit red blue rainbow riding through
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Steven Ball London, UK
Steven Ball has been working as an artist since the early 1980s, in film, video, sound, installation, and performance, and has been a member of the post-punk DIY group Storm Bugs. In 2014 he started writing and recording songs as a solo project, being particularly concerned with experimenting with which kinds of texts might constitute a song lyric. ... more
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