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  • the benefit of all our doubt - 2020
  • the benefit of all your doubt - 2020
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  • breath taking - 2017
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  • unremembering - 2018
  • foregin poilcy - fuond framgent - 2018
  • not finished - installation - 2017
  • with them came disease and Christianity - installation - 2018
  • unfinished - installation - 2018
  • self-portrait - relational installation - 2017
  • rumour, humour and bodies of thought - group specific relational social intervention - 2016
  • there's nothing in the turret - site specific relational event - 2016
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  • the benefit of all our doubt - 2020
  • the benefit of all your doubt - 2020
  • the benefit of all my doubt - 2020
  • is this enough? - 2018
  • 2020 vision - 2020
  • Shhhhhh... 2019
  • here - video installation - 2015
  • O U T - 2019
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  • the invisible girl - 2019
  • interventions - proposals
  • breath taking - 2017
  • the inaccessibility button - 2017
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  • untitled - video - 2017
  • unremembering - 2018
  • foregin poilcy - fuond framgent - 2018
  • not finished - installation - 2017
  • with them came disease and Christianity - installation - 2018
  • unfinished - installation - 2018
  • self-portrait - relational installation - 2017
  • rumour, humour and bodies of thought - group specific relational social intervention - 2016
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  u n r e m e m b e r i n g  - 2018 - video/audio installation



this was not the video I had intended to make - but lost in contemplation, running through my original intention one bright blustery sunday morning, my thought processes were interrupted by an overheard conversation - bamboo, sunlight and a stiff south easterly were vociferously conversing on the wall in my hall - I filmed it - I then filmed directly back out through the window into the dazzling sunlight piercing and bursting through the bamboo  overloading  the sensors in my camera - the results are what you see
 
what you hear developed as an idea from the sound recording I made in which there almost appeared some sense of content to the insistent whisperings between the breeze and the bamboo - somehow, my not 'speaking the language' seemed an advantage - it made me concentrate on the poetics of the sound - the rises and falls, nuances  and inflections - I asked myself a question, "is it still poetry when you don't understand the words?"

the explosive imagery felt like neurons firing in response to some redolent event - rememberings bursting to the fore - but it was the quietening as they fell back into the distance that held me - there appeared an acquiescence to these unrememberings, then an unremembering of the unrememberings  and then, as if anew, a re-remembering.
 
1 in 6 people over the age of 80 in the uk live with dementia in one form or another - living in a world of remembering/unremembering , input from the outside often seems like listening to a different language - however, there comes a stage of bitter sweet amnesia when not remembering not remembering  enables some re-enjoyment of the poetry of life - even with no  understanding of the words





foregin poilcy
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