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Covid Lockdown walks  


Weston Super Mare, April-June, 2020


A typology of posts all in a line......
Post 1: stands up to my chin all weathered and beaten
Post 2: is up to my nose and lighter in colour than the first a camouflage of greens and sand
Post 3: 4 steps from the last just up to my neck this time all blackness at the bottom
Post 4: I could kiss the top with my mouth it’s fresh new perfectly cylindrical form
Post 5: just 3 steps away and comes only up to the top of my thigh - what happened I wonder
Post 6: 3 steps again and leans off to a 20 degree angle away from the shoreline
Post 7: stands as tall as my breast bone with a strip torn off its tip
Post 8: inline with my armpit this yellow lichened lovely stands
Post 9: I rest my chin upon this one all brittle and dry and look out to the sea
Post 10: curves out of line just 2 steps and a small one away
………..
Post 20: a big thick boy more like a trunk than a pole with the rings of years embedded in sand
…….
Post 23: another thick trunk low enough to perch upon so for a moment I do
……
Post 38: marks a new section
……
Post 50: marks the end of it
……
Post 71: we stand eye to eye
Post 72: 15 whole steps away from the last
……
Post 75: has the face of an owl in its knots
……
Post 82: a bird has shat all over
……
Post 87: hello glorious lichen again
Post  88: an anomaly as thick as a tree and as tall as the sky
……
Post  96: marks the end of the line before turning to a right angle to begin a new direction
Blinking, clicking…..
One blink two runners turn the corner
One blink still sludge / green algae
One blink the water so still
One blink blurred rippling building
One blink long legged pier
One blink people in pairs strolling
One blink a waggling wagtail 
One blink feet kicking ruffed up sand
One blink the sea going out or in at mid tide
One blink a flock of gulls swooping
One blink two small islands in conversation
One blink the billowy sky sitting there not looking
One blink shutters shuttered up
One blink sorry we’re closed
Click click 
---
A grain of sand...
a brave new world Beckons
a now stillness of a certain kind 
a quiet of shipwreck 
that I find myself quite liking


steps traced out on a map 
scoring the edge of the coastline 
never walking the same path twice
nowhere to go 
everywhere to move to 
biding time

 
as I walk I compose and count…..  
5 possible routes or more
4 you and for me
3 storeys deep below sea level 
2 green bottles hold enticing notes 
1 mysterious lover

> insert pause / moment of silence not in monochrome  <

a collaborative breath 
a head, neck and face 
the sound of a new voice 
recounting truths, believing fictions
through the lens of a grain of sand

Counting waves…...
One wave hello
One wave cheerio
One wave lies low
One wave licks the shore, all tongues
One wave bigger than the last
One wave comes together before breaking apart
One wave smaller than before
One wave is composed
One wave decomposed
One wave fizzes and bubbles
One wave breaks
One wave is broken
One wave small bare feet alter its flow
One wave calls to Luka
One wave comes over from Wales
One wave just four seconds after the last
One wave comes in its wake
One wave glistens and gleams
One wave shivers and shakes
One wave time to get in
One wave short sharp chill on warm skin
One wave gasps at the waist
One wave wet salt on face
One wave takes me under
One wave wraps itself around me
One wave embraces and holds
One wave assists my swim
One wave time to get out now
One wave licks my feet
One wave wears itself out
One wave folds itself over the last
One wave carries tales on its lips of terrible things
One wave whispers them into the sand
One wave cries tears made from salty things
One wave undoes and dissolves
One wave wastes away into the sand
One wave forever blowing bubbles
One wave holds a twig in its fingers
One wave is brave
One wave comes in further than the last
One wave is reminded by the moon
One wave turns the tide high
One wave marks the start of a return journey
One wave and so it continues
One wave and so it goes
The day....
The lock that’s down or is it up
The frame a one hour window
The footstep an elongated hoof
The puddle my only washing machine
The day in muted tangerine
The buildings a well known board game
The shop selling only rotten fruit
The non essential item screaming ‘buy me’
The two left footed shuffle with a stranger  

The man in orange with a gaping hole for a mouth
The shutters with nothing much to say
The sky an alarming headline
The pier trying to run away from it all
The sea a band of flattened gold
The night time trying on a new stance
The chill on my hands a difficult friend
The dog a short-distance runner
The mask slipping from my ears
The eyes a portal to offbeat lands
The new road to nowhere a digital algorithm
The setting sun a new job out of the city
The hopping crow that might be a raven
The creeping stars an extra normal love song
The sand that I will take home for the night
The cheap chocolate no replacement for love
The news story that dangles like a carrot
The creaking door a long awaited invitation
The unfashionable chair a soft lap for a cat
The piercing sound of no ones business
The tire of a day that never woke up

 Hausmusik Kollektiv’s growing collection of A4 sheet paper pieces to create,
experience or perform at home when we are all encouraged to socially distance ourselves, to find new ways of sharing experiences.....