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The new studio and car in between

The car was as yellow as several hundred spines of national geographics stacked together high upon a shelf; it was ready to take us to the places its pages would depict. We had to find the road first though it was a bank holiday so we decided to escape the city and soft-top convertible our way towards a new studio. As summer was beginning to find its place upon the banks of the loch we took a minor road and parked upon a verge, next to a ruin, a pylon with mountainous lands in the distance. There we took a walk.

Ten minutes down we entered in to character – there, aside a pond and upon the rocks we came across something other than ourselves. Something of a reflection or two: one of each for us to find.

Stream rock ready water dam then leach sunscreen tadpole. Tree, root rock again then bones with antlers for us to fish out of the pond. One of us wanted to build a boat like the one in the river next to the mountains, shaped like a rice bowl, simplified for finding small fry. We would use masking tape for this, we would explore documenting what we make and the appearance of these characters that habituate and ruin the micro-eco-system of this place: with straight lines in the midst of nature’s curves. And then ducks followed by their children dressed in spotted feathers float effortlessly across to the man made destruction. It was all her fault, the found-character and her eyes and ears and meddling feet that looked like hands and her straight Patti Smith hair

We set up the equipment with tripods and lenses and remotes and props to prop our ideas up with. We then gave the landscape over to these characters. And they were away amongst the odd dip in to conversation like the fingering of cool water to take stock amongst the hot sun of work. Photograph next to film, object next to movement and the drowning of lanterns bought and brought from Chinese porn shops behind Leicester Square.

We had exhausted our lens shots and it was getting hot. The found limbs and extenders, she had finished her stream as a straight hairline extension. We have pictures for that. She misses the month ago birthday when shit hit the fan but here she seemed at peace.

We decided to pack up our shit and leave this place so that’s what he did. Stepping over pond, fish, antlers, bones, rock and root. Reversing over tree and passed the dam and across the stream we documented our departure to an envelope on the floor: we had fifty pounds to spend on refreshments atop the hill and next to a gray man guitar player. So that is what we did.

He then wanted walls after lunch so they went in search of them. GO FORTH along the road against the traffic to another grassy verge. The ruin was about us and the dell was beyond to a fork in the river. We found something altogether different there or rather he found us outside his home in a field. The grass took the oncoming rain along with the wind and all colour dissipated to duotone. We have photographs for that too.

You can have a look.


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