You are hearing the bright shape of sound like the gutter of fire in a wind too fast. The jarring metallic whistle, slight and rough, like a scratch of the air. You are hearing the wet of the ground. Like grit and mud. You are hearing the clatter clatter. The bump of sound. A breath and the wind in the ear shakes, like a coat being shook, like a plastic sheet. You are hearing the shift of pitch of your breath. You are hearing the breath more slight. And the breath more close and light in pitch. But close.

A film poem: cycling a circle through woods and along the canal. Filming with the lens cap on and recording the sound until reaching points marked on a map: a quarry, a common, a playground. Here the lens cap is removed. Frame by frame the video is transcribed.

A collaboration with Sean Borodale.

Anti-Static – Brewhouse, Taunton 2006

Some Vacant Accommodation – Stroud Valley Artspace, Stroud 2006