IMG_9343.JPG

I READ SOMEHERE THAT GRAPES ARE VERY GOOD FOR YOUR EYESIGHT. MY GRANDDAD USED TO GROW GRAPES IN HIS GREENHOUSE, I'M NOT SURE IF HE EVER INTENDED TO GROW THEM, BUT HE WAS GROWING OLDER FAST AND PULLING THEM FROM THE GROUND NEVER MADE IT ONTO HIS TO-DO LIST. STILL, A VINE PUSHED UP FROM BENEATH THE TOMATO PLANTS AND PENETRATED EVERY CORNER OF THAT SMALL GLASS BOX UNTIL THEY BECAME SO UNRULY, THEY BROKE THE GLASS AND ATE THE GREENHOUSE WHOLE. THEY WERE A FERAL KIND OF FRUIT, ANCHORED IN AND FULL OF PIPS. MY GRANDDAD WAS BLIND FOR AS LONG AS I CAN REMEMBER, I’M TOLD HE LOST HIS SIGHT SHORTLY AFTER A CATARACT OPERATION, WHEN IN THE BATH A BAR OF SOAP SHOT FROM HIS SLIPPERY HAND AND UP INTO THE SOCKET, AND KNOCKED THE SIGHT STRAIGHT OUT OF HIM. HIS SIGHT, FALLING DOWN THROUGH THE MILKY WATER, SLIPPED FROM BETWEEN HIS FINGERS, SETTLED ON THE BASE OF THE TUB, AND PERISHED AS IT SWIRLED DOWN AND INTO THE DRAIN.

best 11.JPG

WHEN I WAS VERY YOUNG, I HAD THE CAPACITY TO TURN MYSELF COMPLETELY TRANSPARENT. I WOULD OBLITERATE MYSELF, BECOME SUDDENLY UNSEEABLE BY HOLDING A SMALL OBJECT IN FRONT OF MY EYES, OR DUCKING BEHIND A PIECE OF FURNITURE THAT COULD OBSCURE MY VIEW. TABLE EDGES, CUSHIONS, SMALL FACE SIZED MATERIAL THINGS MADE ME DISAPPEAR. MY ‘NOT SEEING’ BECAME A ‘NOT BEING SEEN’. A TACTFUL BLINDING. NAÏVE SUBMISSION. A CLOAKED ‘BLIND SPOT’ THAT NEVER ONCE CONCEALED ME FROM THE OUTSIDE, I NEVER REALLY APPEARED TO VANISH. I OBSCURED MY VIEW OF YOU AND SO, I THOUGHT, I BECAME OBSCURED TOO. ALL I HAD TO DO WAS MOVE MY HANDS AWAY, AND ‘SEEING’ RUSHED IN, FLOODED BY SIGHT, ORGANISED LIKE DISHWATER DOWN AN OPEN DRAIN.

 

 

Rehearsing the Blind Spot

2018.

Performance.

The Highline Building, Elephant and Castle.

 

 (An unresolved bricolage germinates, a feminine capacity to reproduce. Touching the edge of my visual field, I would like to perform this blind spot.)