Thursday, 30 June 2011

Contexture, University College Falmouth

Dw i'n crwydro'r byd yn chwilio am fy ngrud

Dw'n crwydro'r byd

Contexture, Woodlane Campus, University College Falmouth June 2011
woven paper on string, old paper [perhaps 40 years or more] printed, text printed on canvas.

about the creation
words printed on canvas

It was in a cube space of its own - I failed to take a photo of whole space - two people have said they will send image...but haven't...

by the accidental dropping of the D in the title, it became a question.
more words added on seing the work [it was in a lovely three sided]

Dw'n crwydro'r byd

this work started its creation for Beyond Text: Making Unmaking

Tuesday, 7 June 2011

Dw i'n crwydro'r byd...additional words, in the wake of

one speaks while hearing one’s own speaking, wedding the self and sound as a singular event... since the voice is capable of being internalized at the same time as it is externalized, it can spill over from subject to object and object to subject, violating the bodily limits upon which classic subjectivity depends (LaBelle, B. (2010). Background Noise. New York/ London: Continuum)

The voice is also felt in the body: it vibrates, through breath, in the diaphragm, the folds of the vocal chords and in the eardrum.

Words that desire to be said, that cannot be said, not publically said. The unsaid is part of us is held, holds us. Words woven into a nest that sits in the hand, long string imply possible future weavings. Words made material, 3 dimensional, words safe enough to give to you – but silent, unreadable words. I also give my words to a stranger [ripped into strips, rearranged, retyped, remade], he sits back to back with me, reads my fragmented words, I cannot see him, I can hear his voice as he spills his/my body out, I feel my words as his rib cage resonates against mine. Self and other.

I embody the words. I disembody the words – hand them over, both readable and unreadable, I re-embody the words both feeling/hearing them come back to me and as I weave. I hear and feel my words but do not speak them.