The sound of drops came as a sweet surprise

Inked waxed dyed dried stapled stretched flattened hung moved. It’s too cold to go outside, the windows are frozen. One of nine frames in view. Bleached dyed oiled dried rolled repetition.

Another movie about a strong woman, made by a man. Another millionaire sportsman with a bad attitude. Another man in power making an apology, his tail between his legs. It was the longest winter in 40 years. Months of blue white snow.

Inked waxed dyed dried stapled stretched flattened hung moved bleached dyed oiled dried rolled. A repetition blinded by the sun.

The sound of drops came as a sweet surprise

The kind of music you hear in a hip store late on a saturday afternoon, that stirs the visitors into a buying frenzy. Time to get serious. No noodling. Sophisticated Noodling. A repetition blinded by the sun in the snow.

Make breakfast. Print poems and file. Record something. Make coffee. Glass on window. Update website. Overland submission. Blue. Marine blue. Make Lunch. Tutti Frutti Biennale. Dye experiment. Wood from the shed. Make dinner. Shovel snow. Make a plan.

The sound of drops came as a sweet surprise

Background noise, sandpaper on a wet surface in circular motion. Bo Hansson’s hat. Sandy Denny’s hair. The wind. The wind. The wind. On the floor on the wall on the chimney on the couch over the beam in the window by the fire. A repetition blinded by the sun in the snow, singing along the way.

The sound of drops came as a sweet surprise. The snow finally melting in the warmth of the sun.

—Alta Art Space, Malmö, April, 2018