"Suppose you liked eating off the floor (some people are that clean, I’m told) — it could be carpeted with food at all times."

Day Six – Thursday June 11th: Timelapse & Notes

Posted: June 11th, 2009 | Author: | Filed under: Day 6, timelapse | 3 Comments »

& each time the moment falls
the emphasis of the moment falls
into time differently

continued presencing
if not the present

these caring accretions,
the life that has gone
acknowledged
as detail,
repeating in place

each time the tongue moves
it moves into time differently

doing, undoing
a bundle of precisely-wired blue
& this & this
appearing

Kate Fagan, return to a new physics.

The room was as we had left it the previous Saturday, despite the fact that Sam and Yasmin had been living with it – or rather, walking through it as part of their living – for five days. Actually when I arrived in the early afternoon Yaz and Sam were Push Pulling the other rooms on the ground floor. The launch of the Locksmith magazine was happening that night, and so they were at work taking the kitchen table into the lounge-room and the lounges into the kitchen to best arrange the space for book-selling and beer drinking. They bought an over-priced bag of wood to burn in one of those bulb-shaped iron fireplaces for out the back. In the timelapse you see them busying about the top left corner while the day began breathing through the room as wind and light. The breeze registers on the timelapse by a jerking movement of the string and paper dangling from the bike-wheel-mouse-trap chandelier, and the gill-like motion of the orange tape that links the brown to the yellow colour zone. The light registers in reflection, shades and shimmers. I helped Sam and Yaz measure and mark up the wall to hang Sam’s painting. Yaz was enthusiastic about what we had done to the room although she had not registered the colour theme, which goes to show you had to be there. The Locksmith crew were behind on rent. This wasn’t so much of a problem because the landlords were the mechanics a few doors down and they were reasonable and friendly people, but Sam had been avoiding speaking to them and so Yaz told him forcefully that he had to go and speak to them now. Sam trudged out of the room with the look of a naughty boy, muttering things under his breath.
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