Collected Cut Collages Collapses Curios Collations Collections and Acts of Cannibalism

for Karen

House of Mirth, House of Wax, House of Merz, House of Laths, House of Silver, House of Coal, House of Crystal, House of Glass, House of Embers, House of Ash, House of Purple, House of Masks, House of Moths, House of Dust, House of Doubts, House of Doors , House of Quilca, House of the Stare, House of Mark, House of Blur, House of Endings, House of Leaves. Steve Bucknell. 02.11.15. “I can’t see a fucking thing,” Reston whispers. Which is true: neither one of their flashlights can effectively penetrate that far into the black. Navidson grabs his backpack and pulls out his Nikon with the Metz strobe with its parabolic mirror. Thanks to this powerful flash, the Hi 8 can now capture a shadow in the distance. The stills, however, are even more clear, revealing that the shadow is really the blur of a man.” Danielewski. House of Leaves. a Rorschach space cellar-head walls close in abandoned misplaced stuff damaged stuff above my head the distant door shuts the cell shifts and pulses I lie on the floor to listen and breathe soft bodies exude through walls under the skull visceral cravings cellar full of weeping lick the damp walls taste the sweet cuts tongue the flesh the blank eyes tapetum lucidum meniscus event horizon ritual words premature burial under the floor of the so-called soul. Steve Bucknell 02.11.15. TO QUILCA Let me thy Properties explain, A rotten Cabin, dropping Rain; Chimnies with Scorn rejecting Smoak; Stools, Tables, Chairs, and Bed-steds broke: Here Elements have lost their Uses, Air ripens not, nor Earth produces: In vain we make poor Sheelah toil, Fire will not roast, nor Water boil. Thro' all the Vallies, Hills, and Plains, The Goddess Want in Triumph reigns; And her chief Officers of State, Sloth, Dirt, and Theft around her wait. Quilca The empty Bottles all uncleanable. The Vessels for Drink few and leaky. The new House all going to Ruin before it is finished. One Hinge of the Street-Door broke off, and the People forced to go out and come in at the Back-Door. The Door of the Dean's Bed-Chamber full of large Chinks. The Beauset letting in so much Wind that if almost blows out the Candles. The Dean's Bed threatn'ning every Night to fall under him. The little Table loose and broken in the Joints. The Passages open over Head, by which the Cats pass continually into the Cellar and eat the Victuals, for which one was try'd, condemn'd, and executed by the Sword. The large Table in a very tottering Condition. But one Chair in the House fit for fitting on, and that in a very ill State of Health. The Kitchen perpetually crouded with Savages. Not a Bit of Mutton to be had in the Country. Johnathan Swift

Rainbow Gravity Days in dark coats. A roundel. A wren near a frozen pool. Ice and hawthorn. The glow of the mantle of winter. Small lives, fires. Crystal exits. A fridge door left open. Iron furrows, Mercury. At the bottom of a fold it’s difficult to see; on the crest things might be different.

How to? There are too many trees, woods and branches in the way, vexed arboreal questions. Keep digging. Drop tears into the abyss. Where? How? Who? Which? Offer bread, not stale crumbs, to the dead. O mouth of meal and worms, it's late. The final Court of Appeal is in session. Nothing can mend the toy heart, or the fire engine stepped on. No downcast look evades responsibility. No tweet, no email. Not even a letter . A blanket is needed for skulking. Unlike Piaf, regret everything. Pardonnez? Confession has given to confess a bad reputation: swollen holy doses of self-commiseration. Don’t keep on, for pity’s sake. Have done. Leave off. Say what? Say: “Sorry, yeah, sorry, yeah.” just like Justin Bieber.

Gale warning - issued: 09:45 on Thu 24 Jan 2019 UTC Southerly gale force 8 expected later Wind In west, southwesterly 3 or 4, backing southerly 5 to 7. In east, southerly 5 to 7, occasionally 4 at first, increasing gale 8, perhaps severe gale 9 later. Sea state Moderate or rough. Weather Wintry showers, rain later. Visibility Good, becoming poor later.

Collage 2018