CLAIRE.

Dad.

2011-09-06T23:22:00.006+01:00

My Dad Died, I got all red-eyed and cried, though I'm sure he tried, not to. Just over four months ago - clarified.
He had a heart attack out of the blue and it was true he was a gonna full on a fried day morning he was sound, then he hit the ground.
When it'll was little (I'll noncommital) he had a few bee hives, behave he'd say and "just stay" ok then in with his big bare bear-like hands wear no protection, on reflection, collection of the lovely runny honey money. Logic - this was before we found I'm allergic. He got another hive, what a dive, an empty one (a wouldn't tempt me one) a couple of years ago and a warm swarm found it and moved in.
The day of the funeral (I wasn't in Newcastle) was guttural. So antihistamine to saccharin was took. Knowing my luck, after the shock, I figured it wouldn't do me any harm. Calm, then, I stayed as I saw the men carrying the coffin, not coughing, trample amply across the other graves to my Grandmama (my Dad's Ma) while the sheep baared in the next field. Twenty-two years ago the same knave grave digger my Dad had asked for Gramdmama to be burried far down deep to keep a place a space to rest in sleep heaped, my Ma and Da, above (when the time comes) Grandmama. The time line chime's and rhymes and a lifetime closes and is lowered. It was over, but I'd found the four-leafed clover and was about to walk and talk and squawk and stalk away, when there was movement (and room for improvement in this line, but back to the rhyme) above the coffin, I'm not laughing, but still down deep in the knave's grave a runny honey bee, flying not dying spying or crying maybe, but all the while underlying life and death.
Sometime before or after my sister, bless her, did witness appropriateness in lightness out of politeness, the bees and their knees (for they refused to leave without them) at the live hive swarming. A second queen's been keen and is setting the scene, is upping and leaving (us all grieving) and landing in the boat next door. Though there was more than four so they haven't gone far.
My Dad did speak in the week, the cheek, that he had seeked and peeked in the hive and there's honey money ready to be sneaked out. But there's no one with the know-how to do that now. Ciao.

Bagsofgold

2011-04-28T12:54:00.002+01:00

S

2011-04-28T12:51:00.003+01:00

123

2011-04-28T12:47:00.001+01:00

no

2011-04-20T23:23:00.003+01:00

candlewax

2011-04-14T20:25:00.003+01:00

Happyness

2011-03-24T17:08:00.002Z

Apple

2011-03-24T17:04:00.000Z

1.2.3...

2011-03-22T00:39:00.000Z

Well I was thirty two when I noticed a line
   (I was thirty one when I saw the gum gone)
but I felt like four when I walked through that door
and into your life,
   it cut like a knife
the aura of you.

Well I'm still thirty two, and I don't know what to do
I got the teeth fixed and filled up with goo
but I notice the eyes,
   that cannot disguise
all that they see is you.

Well I'm now thirty three and with a pair of lenses
I see you more clearly, but my jaw really clenches
so I saw the dentist,
   and all I can sense is
a presence of you.

Well now I'm thirty eight and misplacing a few years
the bones been dissolving but so have the fears...
.........

   ... to be continued.

fishgold

2011-03-22T00:17:00.001Z

You - me

2011-03-22T00:07:00.002Z

I can't even think straight

let alone write

the thought of you

was no intention to site

Your beautiful smile

beautiful white teeth

the beautiful bone structure

and whats underneath?

is something to wonder

the rest of the day

something to ponder

and ponder away

'til arriving home

the thought of You

realisation of

only being a view.

I can't even think straight

I don't wanna see

the whole scenario

of You minus Me

the way of Your life

the way of Your world

the way of You

and how things unfurl

in something to wonder

in long sleepless nights

and how long thou dust wonder

alone without lights.

Alone on thy own

the thought of You

on arriving home

realisational view.

Pantomime Dames maybe...

2011-02-20T20:22:00.000Z

Journey through an eco-village

2011-02-19T12:53:00.000Z

turn your head sideways for this one...

Phoenix

2011-02-10T16:54:00.001Z

The tart with a heart is making an appearance in the next Byker Phoenix Magazine - out now!

...my invention.

2011-01-29T22:44:00.000Z

Byker Pheonix Illustrations

2010-12-11T11:19:00.002Z

.....and finally, the new edition of the Byker Pheonix magazine..... out now!

Discarded

2010-10-27T19:59:00.003+01:00

transitional problems

2010-10-27T19:37:00.002+01:00

signwriting

2010-10-27T19:26:00.002+01:00

.....I used to be a signwriter

mouth

2010-09-19T18:27:00.005+01:00

toothfairy

2010-09-15T15:22:00.009+01:00

....and finally, once again with big thanks to Forkbeard Fantasy.

2010-09-08T11:02:00.000+01:00

...extracts from a dyslexic dictionary

2010-09-05T20:54:00.002+01:00

2010-08-27T11:34:00.002+01:00

Forkbeard Fantasy summer school

2010-08-15T13:56:00.005+01:00

photos copyright jeff tearle

.....with very special thanks to Forkbeard Fantasy

photmontage

2010-07-28T23:08:00.000+01:00

Private Plane Performance

2010-07-10T19:07:00.000+01:00

speed: 507 miles per hour.

altitude: 39000 feet.

date: 11/03/98.

2010-07-10T18:42:00.000+01:00

The next day at twilight the prince stood by the foot of the tower and cried

"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair."

Immediately, the plait of hair came stumbling down and the prince climbed up.

-----------------------------------------

The next day at twilight the prince stood by the foot of the tower and cried

"Claire, Claire, let down your hair."

"I can't, I have none."

photodrawing

2010-07-10T17:34:00.001+01:00

drawingwallpaper

2010-07-10T17:30:00.003+01:00

drawing

2010-07-10T17:29:00.003+01:00

drawing

2010-07-10T17:28:00.005+01:00

drawing

2010-07-10T17:28:00.004+01:00

2010-06-17T10:39:00.002+01:00

"Repetition has the effect of blurring the image, much as a word repeated over and over again loses it's origional meaning - ocean becomes notion etc" = Trisha Brown, Body Art and Performance.

work in progress...

2010-06-13T14:45:00.006+01:00

Walled = having walls; surrounded or protected as if by walls; fortified.

Wall to wall = covering the whole area of the room; nonstop, continuous.

Wally = an idiot.

altogether in the same space...

ANNULLED AVOIDANCE.

Grace

How would it be....

with you inside me? (I'm talking like you already exist!)

Unfurling and curling

in whatever way you will.

Unraveling a past

with a history to look forward to,

(exhibiting) expecting a blast

not a need for paracetamol.

I think you'd be slightly effeminate

before that masculine masque,

with an ever so eccentrical streak

running right along, parallel with the last

little rhyme of reason

to ever give grace, to your face.

But grace has got one foot

right out of the door

with the other

trying to step right back in.

Maybe you will be graceful

(and maybe you will exist)

or maybe I'll control your destiny

and just not give you the time of space.

Nullipara = a woman who has never given birth to a child, especially if not a virgin.

drawing

2010-06-02T23:25:00.001+01:00

layers

2010-06-02T17:11:00.003+01:00

work in progress

2010-05-24T19:16:00.006+01:00

so lange es dauert

2010-05-24T19:00:00.004+01:00

photo copyright cj mahony

2010-05-12T11:07:00.004+01:00

"Dreams become reality (then your stuck with them)."

Robert Lepage.

drug trial

2010-05-10T21:46:00.001+01:00

home

2010-05-10T20:47:00.000+01:00

flagrante delicto

2010-05-10T20:25:00.006+01:00

photos copyright valeria cozzarini

Bees + tractors

2010-05-03T16:42:00.000+01:00

inabox

2010-04-29T19:12:00.000+01:00

(breakdown)

2010-04-28T21:10:00.002+01:00

Facewash the face,

toothbrush the teeth,

cleanse away

'til you get underneath.

Under the skin,

and around the soul.

Through the heart

(and it's hole).

'Til you find whats there

all grey and old,

covered in cobwebs,

dust and mold.

The skeletal bones

deep down in the ground

and you up above

splashing around.

Facing the wash

teething the brush

faraway cleansing

underneath 'til you get

the skin and under

the soul and around

the heart

(through it's hole)

whats there 'til you found

old and all grey

cobwebs covered

mold, dust (decay)

bones, the skelad

ground down in the deep

above and you up

around, splash (weep?)

the wash facing

the brush teething

cleansing away far

get underneathing

under and skin

around so-old

the art, and her

whole, (it's though)

find, whats there? 'til you

Grail and

ced cobs over web

old kay-oust

the ones teleskal

deep round and down

and up bove you

lash a spar round

Fac the wash

rush the beating

fair ways leaning

you get earth underdetan

udder inskan

sold and rou

the hierarchy

whore (is) though

'til their hats fin you

greed an la

sober cower ou

chaous toa

elestreale hens

own pee rundd

yonder dove

surround a lunge

Was the fac?

beat the rust

fairly leaning saw

ear you get undoneth

were sod coerd

cold has tou

eels an then

peer down

ove on dove

salarund

Fac the

beat rush

saw learn

nearth done

non sad

drew slid

arc high

though who

fant hit

gral ed

sod coe

as old

the san

er won

on ove

ala

Fac

eat

len

north

dos

slide

arch

ooohe

fan

ail

ole

sen

one.

auslander

2010-04-26T18:27:00.004+01:00

Theres one on the stairs going round and round then theres the other in the middle improvising sound and the self on the edge on the ledge of the edge bound to go around encircling the sound of the improvising middle of the stairs up and down to rebound off the ground as the self drags the foreground turning into background while the sound from the centre circles to surround.

Three hour durational performance, with three performers.

a circular staircase structure suspended from the ceiling with a man on them walking round.

a female opera singer standing on the floor in the middle singing improvised noises.

a ceiling to floor length curtain being dragged slowly round by the third performer on a rail encircling the staircase structure.

images copyright amino

"We dance round in a ring and suppose,

While the secret sits in the middle and knows."

The Secret Sits by Robert Frost (american poet)

work in progress (wallofdeath)

2010-04-26T16:21:00.001+01:00

(it all breaks down)

A red blood stain

on a yellow patterned carpet

in through the eyeball

and out through the armpit

it was sickening to see

and I hated you for it

you in your blurryness

and me as the forfeit

a red blood stain

on a yellow patterned carpet.

"in through the eyeball

and out through the armpit"

made about as much sense,

it was sickening to see it

you in your blurryness

and I hated you for it

on a red blood stain

with a yellow patterned carpet

out though the eyeball

and on through the forfeit

made about as much sense

as a yellow patterned carpet

seeping out through the eyeball

that was sickening to see it

as it went on in the poet

and was hated so for it

while it made itself a forfeit

crossing the patterned carpet

nonsensical to see it

was not its own fault it

was just a red patterned stain

on a yellowed blood carpet.

Footage of James Messham's Wall of Death here