This week has been busy, I spent four days working TDC Brisbane – which was amazing and all-encompassing – and of course there is the June release. Going out a few days delayed, for the health and clarity of my brain: Hide – the last Zine Suite; Geo Jeans – my third embroidery collection and Fronts & Facades – a collection of street photography.
Find following: a short prose ode to libraries; a micropoem about freerange pineapples; and a poem about falling asleep.
In that long-held suspension, within the pausing of time, that place was my solace. My home, when home was cold and dark. My companion, when I was alone. My teacher, when all others had turned away.
That time built within me a desperate sort of love. A dependent and depending love. My love for that place, and for all its ilk, will never die and even if it fades with time it will never lose its lustre. The debt I owe, I don’t want to repay, I am content to live beholden.
Even as time passes, and the building changes. Even when the small corner I used to wedge myself into, even when the vine with its purple flowers, even when the titles I know like my own body are gone. I will hold a memorial of that place, a listing in the archives of my memories, with a note penned carefully below it reading:
The place that kept me going, that kept me alive, until I could do more than merely survive.
Road-centre pineapples, a roundabout garden, basking in the sun.
Falling to sleep
Twitching like a puppet –
A corpse, heating instead of cooling
Beneath heavy blankets
And a heavier weight.