Fieldwork - Wild Spaces. Case Study: Autistic/ND Artists Stimming Canalscape Texts Collages Videos
the rows of hours
stripped off their stripes
and the land and the edge of the city and the land and the edge of the city and the land and the edge of the city spoke out of turn and brought outside the shaded branches and the trees and the mouths of the people and the land and the rows of houses and the sea and the rows of the houses and the land and the land and the edge of the land and the bitten off sea.
the rows of hours and the houses
stripped off their stripes
and the land and the edge of the city and the land and the edge of the city and the land and the edge of the city spoke out of turn and brought outside the shaded branches and the trees and the mouths of the people and the land and the rows of houses and the sea and the rows of the houses and the land and the land and the edge of the land and the bitten off sea.
the rows of hours and houses
stripped off their stripes
and the land and the edge of the city and the land and the edge of the city and the land and the edge of the city spoke out of turn and brought outside the shaded branches and the trees and the mouths of the people and the land and the rows of houses and the sea and the rows of the houses and the land and the land and the edge of the land and the bitten off sea.
Case Study 2 took this blue photograph and the purple photograph and I edited them to be a blue and purple haze for the poem I was about to give in a glow of time the night sky giving and the below starting of the focused living.
The trees breathe for me because I cannot
I lie down and I cough and cannot breathe
I lie down
I cough
I cannot breathe
and for all the trees growing in the sky
for all the branches stretching touching clouds
an atmosphere of movement
I seek to yearn to be free of chains afoot in bed, afoot in bed, I long for colour to dissolve from my neck my lungs
breathe out a different language
speak in a different song
hymn the hum of the earthquake
I feel above my head into the mist
I sit under tree branches
like hands to hold
a rocking horse
made of wood from trees to hold
a hand holding a vibrant passage
i make out of the stories told to me by firelight candlelight
i shift in the breeze
i make out the light in the darkness
a cloud
i make out into the darkness a misshapen thought
i peel out into the darkness
a breath made mark on the window
sill of dreams i make out into the darkness
a cupful of tea.
breathe hesitate breathe hesitate breathe hesitate breathe
the rows of hours and houses
stripped off their stripes
and the land and the edge of the city and the land and the edge of the city and the land and the edge of the city spoke out of turn and brought outside the shaded branches and the trees and the mouths of the people and the land and the rows of houses and the sea and the rows of the houses and the land and the land and the edge of the land and the bitten off sea.
