I too forget such simple things 

I have been planning and making for my mixed media workshop for months – now I have taught it – I didn’t have a project …… 

I found a poem that I liked- I was  drawn to the  the physical look. It’s long and thin and called’ I am Scotland’ by Micheal Pedersen its published in SoGo Magazine in the AU15 issue. 

They are in Facebook and Twitter but I can’t see a website

The illustration is by Timourous beasties 


I wanted to play with the words and the way cross hatching and redacting sections  can affect the visual embodiment of the form ,  not the sound or the feelings – just how it looks – 

I started blocking randomly , then systematically , Jon wants me to play with the words like in a found poem. I read out a couple , but it is all about how it looks when I attack it , for the moment. 

I am very drawn to the line ‘I, too, forget such simple things’ – Thinking about dementia , I watched a very moving film by Beatrice Alligranti called ‘I can’t find myself ‘ . In her research Alligranti used experiences with dementia , repetitive movements, conversations and more research to choreograph a dance / exploration of the condition. It is haunting me


There are family issues around the illness.  

Today I was tired and ill with my IBS and I couldn’t process stuff at work. It felt like parts of me were missing – I warmed up after a while but I remember sitting at my desk thinking, I know this , I don’t understand, I can’t find my way through  , then I realised that the ‘powers that be’ had been renaming files – in a seemingly random way . I wasn’t going daft – yet …. 

Blocking out the text of the poem – is a way of illustrating how I felt – interestingly this is observed in retrospect – the holes in my understanding , what I could and couldn’t read. I felt presented within something that kept shifting and changing so that I couldn’t comprehend the whole.

Another aspect that I have become aware of is that by coming at the poem this way – by only randomly picking words-  I am still getting the meaning  , but not in a linear way , words are locking them selves in my memory but not in the order they were presented – auburn , filigree ,shrieking seagulls.   The section when the father talks in a Scottish dialect in italics – it’s about the shape and form – breaking up the text. 

Some of the ways I attacked the poem 

Just leaving the first words of a line visible 

Picking out the 3rd or 4th words 

Using a felt pen to redact sections 

Random blocking 

Choosing words 

Trying to make a found poem 

I hand made a journal with 3 folios – this felt like an achievement towards making my own book – the format fits the length and width of the poem and there are 26 double spreads – the possiblity of 52 versions of the poem or 26 with notes …….. I like it when I find something that could occupy me for a while 






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