Documentation of Work in Progress



Script (so far):

I was born where the world ended

In the heart

Of the Industrial Revolution.



The red bricks overpowered me

But the smoke from my chimneys snook violently around the world.

I should be proud

“You’re meant to be proud”

There’s a blatant disconnect between how you taught me my hometown history,

And how you taught me about slavery.

I’m not.


The irony of my end

Is where I began.


Remember Me

Remember the air

The smoke,

The TVs

The chatter

What was the matter?

I want you to think; remember your first memory.

How blurry is it now?

What perspective is it in; First or third?

Are you sure you still hear the birds?

Or did this birth from a story your mum told you again, and again?

What is a memory,

 but something you constructed yourself

Out of feeling excluded or to avoid

The rage that you forgot a paid-for experience.

Never forget,

What if it’s all too much, what if I want to?

I can’t carry your memorial in my brain,

a graveyard in the cerebral cortex.

I shoved it in the vortex in my mind.

Do you still justify your rage

In the new age

Of Modern colonialism?

Existing in the spaces and silence between the aim and shaky reason why.






Show who’s boss.

You can solve scar tissue with a knife.

Or bond over it.

The fuse is weak

It’s leaking ev er y where

Like oil in the ocean.

It just can’t mix.

It’s cute to see the men return home,

Close your eyes – the atrocities don’t exist when the dog missed him.

The shots go unfired,

The civilians walk free,

The whistleblowers stay quiet

And the private goes home.

Or perhaps, you’ll pray for Private Manning to stop existing.

Writing/Drawing Practice:


Zine 1:

Zine 2:

Newspaper At The End of The World, Poem:

Untitled (wip)

September 10th 2008 (Reflective Diary Entry)

Dear Unborn Child (Plastic Baby):

Dreams of the End of the World/Death:

These are not final presentations, only works in progress, drafts or notes.

Installation Plan:

Plan: A 4:3 TV covered in Turf with a hole cut out for the display. On the turf will be structures of Stalagmites (2-6), made from either cardboard or plaster. In front of the TV will be a high chair and a plastic baby. This is a recreation of a dream, memory, and a reference to the Dear Unborn Child piece.