Lines

I intend to carry on developing my projects as I see them as on going projects in there infancy and this project was one of my most thought provoking, one that lead me to produce the Con artist short film.

For this particular project we are required to go on a metaphorical journey on the theme of connections. I found myself looking at various ways to communicate my thinking.

A particular book i have read, Lines a Brief History, fueled my though for abstract thinking and i found that i started to look at how lines affect peoples lives and are often imposed upon us through our institutions. Our hospitals, homes we live in. Decisions we make about holidays, journeys, how we view information, how we write, how we queue.

We in the Western world think mechanically, our lines are static, logical linear thinking, as compared to the sensitive, flowing lines of the East.

Lines of inquiry leading to knowledge.

This brought me to poetry.

I started with conceptual visualisation a meaning point that i could understand.

Looking a bit inside me i realised that what i think and feel is better said in words.

The Line

Like birds in boxes on echoing corridors, nihilism imposed in

the architects office. Linear existence of modernist dreams.

Row after row.

Line after line.

Dichotomy creating social delinquent.

Hedonistic in culture, a briefly but tragic

mirror is broken.

Abstract secrets revealed.

Quite but brave.

Lines electrified preventing intrusion,

creating protection, isolating, controlling,

commuting the bride to her well thought

out wedding.

For movements sake!

Let me be free to wonder...!

I was hear long before you and

will always be.

Let your eyes follow the path

as the hand that created me.

In the land of the dead there

are no traces for lines to appear

on surfaces.

Only threads in labarinyths where

all is vague and void of reality.

I sit upon my line, some of it has surely gone.

Its withered, torn, its confused me. But i don't

doubt it.

How much will lie before me...

Its early days yet and having looked at the works of Ted Hughes and Sylvia Plath

i aim on developing this further and looking how to present in a visually stimulating way through more research and thinking.

I started to think of the imagery i'd like to use but i am finding it difficult how i can

take it any further design wise

The Line.

It starts with light lines entering eyes,

Adroit in perception.

Flipped in an instance,

Now electrical impulses.

Secrets of the world revealed.

Like birds in boxes on echoing corridors, nihilism imposed in

The architect’s office.

Linear existence of modernist dreams.

Row after row.

Line after line.

Dichotomy creating social delinquent...

Hedonistic in culture, a brief but tragic

Mirror is broken.

Abstract secrets revealed.

Quiet but brave.

Lines electrified preventing intrusion,

Creating protection, isolating, controlling,

Commuting the bride to her well thought

Out wedding.

For movements sake!

Let me be free to wonder...!

I was hear long before you and

Will always be.

Let your eyes follow the path

As the hand that created me.

Critical, unconscious, unaware of

Lines of laser beams penetrating my

Brain for connections of malice.

Prognosis excellent, relief for the

Family, helplessly waiting.

In the land of the dead there

Are no traces for lines to appear

On surfaces.

Only threads in labyrinths where

All is vague and void of reality.

I sit upon my line; some of it has surely gone.

Its withered, torn, its confused me. But I don't

Doubt it.

How much will lay before me…

This was my final presentation. I decided to use my own imagery to make my work more complete.

It starts with light lines entering eyes,

Adroit in perception.

Flipped in an instance,

Now electrical impulses.

Secrets of the world revealed.

Like birds in boxes on echoing corridors,

Nihilism imposed in the architechs office.

Linear existence of modernist dreams.

Row after row.

Line after line.

Dichotomy creating social delinquent.Hedonistic in culture,

A brief but tragic mirror is broken.

Abstract secrets revealed.

Quiet but brave.

Lines electrified preventing intrusion,

Creating protection, isolating, controlling,

Commuting the bride through

Her well thought out wedding.

For movements sake!

Let me be free to wonder...!

I was here long before you and always will be.

Let your eyes follow the path

as the hand that created me.
Critical, unconscious, unaware of

Lines of beams penetrating my brain

For connections of malice.

Prognosis excellent.

Relief for the

Family, hopelessly waiting.

In the land of the dead there are

No traces no lines appear on surfaces.

Only threads in labyrinths where

All is vague and void of reality.I sit upon my line; some of it has surely gone.

Its withered, torn, its confused me.

I don't doubt it.

How much will lay before me....