Fire-fly

Work in the limit of where you are. For what else can you do? That means if you are in a perceptual straight- jacket try it out for size. This is a serious proposition. It's only in the flat-lands of seemingly dead-end dimensions and in the very act of describing these borderlands and in the tiny dotted and lined details of this and that - however parochial and limited they may seem- that there will be a flip-out as the end-pieces of these details accumulate and begin to hum and buzz of their own accord. This is the Tuning and makes a flat piece of paper or a repeated mantra that seems to be going nowhere; a nursery rhyme with just two bars- suddenly somersault. Because the given ingredients can never be known in full as simply a descriptive representation of some kind of inertia or pathological memory loss. And in the very act of this description or basic accountancy, the buzz of the pieces- as if they were tiny little animals with a life of their own who somehow knew how to congregate without anybody having told them how- will begin to hum and manoeuvre, talk and exchange possible positions in relation to one another. This is like a kind of over-tone that is nowhere in the original piece and could never be found if one by one these elements were dusted off and inspected however long that took or carefully that was done. Because it is a combination that lives in and of the moment in the speed reading and resonant flashes and sparks of a certain frissure that vibrates and shimmers with no will or intent that could be summed up under one organism but simply as the ultimate landing point in a series of minute disruptions and exchanges- of emptying out here and filling in there.

There is  a vacuum surge in which suddenly a dead weight- a broken limb or eruptive gut or strained ankle surges into movement and momentum and is set free within a wider circulation as if a piece of dead wood caught in a gutter pipe is suddenly released. One could say that all representation is necessarily flat and one dimensional. But something gives and something is received there and then on the dry uninspiring paper- or in the bars of notes that are code-able one by one but that create some kind of backwash surge where they drift up the coast-line as if by an attraction that is nowhere given. The luminosity of colour combinations have the same affect so that the isolation of hues can suddenly take it no longer and buzz into another dimension where they rinse through one another being neither this nor that. This is the realm of atmosphere. It is environmental and it is lived here and now in the activities that rinse through neurological thresholds brimming to a break-point and on the verge of collapse, somehow furthering through the body and through the air particles; into reaching and affecting the skin of others, drifting on currents into the pathway of and through the respondent flow of other organisms, rocks and plant-life. And there are tables and chairs too. Biros and drums, sunglasses and depleted hand-bags. Everything is there just as it is but nothing is a given.

Pieces in a stage set to be primed into motion- into imaginative excess on the briefest of touches where there is this sustained attention . And so the moment of transformation is given but somehow extended indefinitely having never reached a conclusion known by itself in advance. And time here is collapsed - past and present streaming in myriad channels into the minutiae of affect. The spin comes out of that; a driving downwards through gravitational pull and a stoppage as cartilage and bone, sinew and muscle, blood and breath heave and practically give out jamming and crunching together only to wait; to have the stamina- the blind-faith patience- that there will be this turn around  right on the verge of death- of inertia or collapse. And whether that occurs here in this body or another, there is a spinning back round and the figure leaps free out of its own inhibition and foreclosure, into a dimension hovering briefly like a fire-fly over the paper- practically a smell-  more a breeze than a locatable object.