Black & White Series, image by Rupert M. Loydell
FIFTEEN MINUTES NOWHERE
‘The world goes on because someone’s awake somewhere. If, by
accident, a moment were to occur when everyone was asleep, the world would
disappear. It would whirlpool into dream or nightmare, tripped by memory. It
would collapse to a place where the body’s simply a generator for the soul, a
factory of longing.’
– Anne Michaels, Fugitive Pieces
1.
IN THE SHADOW OF THE ABANDONED
False
prophets gather by the creek at dusk, suggesting other ways to live by the
muddy water. The god of ocean tides is an earthquake driver currently
elsewhere, looking for the abandoned days we cast aside.
After
ten hours of light and sleep deprivation what really pleases me is the quiet.
2.
CHOSEN OBJECTS
Household
items.
A
small stone.
Glass
windows.
The
empty bowl of soup.
Eskimo
kiss and heart flutter.
Big
sighs missing in action.
First
things first.
3.
INTERWOVEN REFERENCES
Footnotes
and appendices, acknowledgements and asides, are all the traffic of a working
mind. We made it clear that the longest shadow is not the greatest and we do
not believe the publisher’s blurb.
The
opening credits suggest we have to get this over with. As the years go passing
by it becomes obvious that all things are quite silent unless forced to speak.
Action generates the psychological, the ceiling fan protects us from an indian
summer. Secrets are reflected in the emotions of us all, we must keep dancing
in the mist.
4.
EXTRAVAGANT PURCHASES
One.
Two.
One
or two.
Love
is a silent thief who lives and dies alone.
He
has been and gone.
5.
NEW GRIDS OR PATTERNS
Simply
score out words to find what it really said. Knob-twiddling soundboard jockeys
tidied up the beats and sought to guide and instruct us. This is a world of
strange design, your silhouette on each and every thing. I mostly stare,
treading water, stealing time.
How does joy emerge from geometry?
I reach out and make others reach.
How does joy emerge from geometry?
Because of my devotion to it.
Why insist on the repetition of form?
Only repetition releases
imperfection.
Why insist on the repetition of form?
It is how mind and body work.
How does joy emerge from geometry?
What is seen is not the sequence.
How does joy emerge from
geometry?
Each one becomes their own centre.
Why insist on the repetition of form?
I am pushing in the same direction.
Why insist on the repetition of form?
The plan wasn’t a failure.
Tranquility
is evident on the surface of the cultural umbrella. Simply score out words to find what is really said. This is a
world of strange design, is not an object but a process. Nothing remains now
but the idea.
6.
A MATTER OF DEGREE
This,
that; this, that and the other. There are monsters in the wilderness and voices
in the rain. The grey present tense has gone, and there is no need for now.
Please don’t make me change my name again.
7.
THAT WHICH NEEDS NOTHING TO EXIST
A
centralized repository of films we do not want to watch and music we will not
listen to. We are perceptive and ahead of the game. Welcome to the era of
unwanted technology, we have so much further to go.
As
luck would have it, there are other things on my mind, which is why I have long
stayed away. Memory is a phenomenon, nostalgia an emotional jump forward to
describe what was to come.
Units
of air displacement can never be accurately recorded. We write what we will
sow, harvest incoherence and can’t be expected to understand any particular
language. It’s not exactly a collage; we must leave sound alone.
8.
FILE-SHARING
A
house of shadow and whirlwinds with the actual owners absent but likely to
return.
You
have to resolve the contradictions and ignore the warning signs; have to know
how to use numbers, how to turn them into sound.
When
you give it away you mix musical needs with social needs.
Frail
and broken sound prints, broken talk, unwanted songs. I am not the only
dreamer, can hear the agitated traffic outside loud and clear.
You
just have to find someone to listen. This is how the music got free.
9.
MY INCOMPLETE MEMORY-FILM
Dark
shadows and small lies accrue in the corners. The projector bulb is broken so
we put everything back in the loft and drank tea. The front of my head
half-expected the door to open and you to walk in. You look back too, to
yesterday’s rain and somebody’s life passing by.
Let
the good times be never-ending: at last there is nothing.
10.
SALUTING THE DISTANCE
To
be loved after all this time, an ongoing narrative in an age of fragmentation
and irony. I could almost see the room where I spoke with her, barefoot in the
morning, my mind in its own place.
11.
WITHOUT PITY
Let
go of the long tone and take the reverse shot. You remind me of you, although
there’s a wind blowing between us. I want to be on your mind, but you won’t be
told, are never ready for action as you push open the door to look outside.
In
abandoned silos and deep bunkers you engage with an aggressive campaign of recruitment
and lies, ready to untangle the confusing web of corporate acquisition and
distribute the accumulated rubbish of our lives.
We
drive along in silence, watching the dust collect on my hand. We had mostly
good times but the rescue boats are in retreat and I can not walk on water any
more.
12.
THE VACANCY OF DREAM
An
empty lexicon. I don’t remember. Part of us will never be.
13.
PSYCHOLOGICAL ORIGAMI
Inconvenient
real estate and papercut scars.
A
game that has no name.
Allowed
to take our time.
New
constellations of stars.
14.
THE VOICE THAT EMERGES
He
has an enormous gift, especially in phrasing and addiction, and a never-ending
desire for speaking aloud, even at the most awkward moment.
15.
ABOUT AS FAR AWAY
You
must have a willingness to manipulate time and a desire to big up ratings and
rankings. False prophets never lie, the future will always happen, the
crocodile of time will always snap. I wish you were here in the metropolis; I
wish I was there, come to that.
Lets
have a party in my broken head, although I have never learnt to share. I love
you like I love my record collection, have the urge to dance. Does my state of
mind not ring the alarm? Don’t worry, I am a god of light and you will be safe
forever. Life is more like science than a prayer.
Sometimes
in the light, teenage ghosts come to visit. You aren’t invited, but once we are
all together there will be something to listen to. Bells and chimes, night
owls, snoring cats and fog horns in the distance. Let me hear the music, listen
up like others do.
What
reasons can I give? I hope we can. The morning light comes through the woods,
the smell of autumn lingers. Where or whenever I see you again, I will be
watching the prescribed channel. The length of wind in the garden means the
bird has a broken wing. This is a love song for an echo.
—Rupert
M. Loydell
NOTE
Fifteen Minutes
Nowhere
is the title of a CD by Earlyguard.
