About the work

A closer look.

Send me one real thing: a name, a night, a line you cannot say out loud. I write a short poem for it, six to twelve lines, and set it as a quiet vertical film. A few lines fade in over a dark moving image, under a minute, ending on silence. You receive the film file and the poem as text, delivered within the agreed days. One revision included. Made one at a time, by hand. Not sure yet? Send me the one thing on its own and I will send back the first two lines, free. Keep them either way. Here is a whole one, made from one thing I carried. The film is these same lines, moving. LAST BUS The driver knows my stop better than I do. He slows before I stand. Some nights nobody gets on for miles, and the lights keep going over the seats, row after row, like someone checking everyone got home. I like that. Being counted without being asked.