I love to travel and though I’m claustrophobic and scared of flying I do it anyway, holding my eyes tight focusing on the forward and the new. Once in the air I usually put it aside not looking directly at the fear. I used to be fine, sleeping and enjoying the process and difference in airports and planes. Maybe now I drink too much coffee, or I’m winding tighter as I grow older.
The last two trips came quickly and one directly after the other. From sitting on Rousay in the Orkney Isles among ancient buildings with no one in sight, the indignant birds tracking our progress across their home patch, I took the nerve shattering flight to NYC and charged about in one of the largest cities in the world.
Now home I’m reassembling, recouping and regrouping, what’s next and what’s now forefront in my mind. How will I make a living? Where will this living be made? Will summer be all that (or should I go away again to ensure it)? In any case things must be a bit off at the moment, because I’ve found time to write something for this thing.
There’s so many of us, filling up the corners of our world and pushing against the boundaries of what we can understand as human nature. How do we define humanity now, in a world where the more we create the further from each other we grow?
How can I show you how I see the world? Who am I to you?
Twelve Compound Thoughts showing at All of This and Nothing – Group Show at Woodland Creatures, Leith Walk from the 5th of October 2015 for two weeks.
I never thought of it as an ugly structure, nor did I dislike it as being an industrial blot on our quaint coastline. Its vastness intrigued my childish sense of the world, feeling no more small against it’s size than I do now. Cockenzie Power Station is the largest structure East of Edinburgh until you reach the delights of the Cement Works and the Nucelar Power Station, though you cannot get so close to either. Between the sheet metal and sea you stand on gravel, eyes and face thrust upwards to attempt comprehension of the sheer scale of these smooth extrusions with no reference point against the infinity of the sky. This squat bulk and two pillars with it’s cladding of pipes and industrial mess made clouds for me and my brother before becoming an unseen in plain sight part of our decent into adulthood. Now years later I walk around it, seeing it’s insides for the first time and feel oddly sad.
Goodbye old friend, I guess we’ll get our clouds through the normal precipitation route from now on.