Time Passes. Listen . Time Passes
Digital dust has been collecting on this site so a blog about time seems appropriate .
In the opening of Dylan Thomas’s Undermilk Wood the narrator describes the sleeping town in beautifully lyrical language .
Time Passes . Listen .Time Passes . ..
Only you can hear the houses sleeping in the streets in the
slow deep salt and silent black, bandaged night. Only you can see, in the blinded bedrooms, the coms. and petticoats over the chairs, the jugs and basins, the glasses of teeth, Thou Shalt Not on the wall, and the yellowing dickybird-watching pictures of the dead.
In this description we are solitary witnesses to the slow march of time as it washes over the sleeping town , the people , objects , animals and ,landscape all linked by the black silence of the universe and it”s elemental driving force , change .
This relief was originally made 20 years ago and called Residual Memory. The title refers to the idea of objects having individual lives that transcend their original purpose . All of life is in a state of flux and we are part of the eternal carbon cycle that turns stardust into flesh, and back to dust . The amonite fossil for instance was found on Barry beach when I was a child . It had lain there for millions of years and before that was a living animal scuttling on the sea bed . Now preserved in stone , I wonder how many more millennia will pass before the atoms in it’’s structure are rearranged into a new form .
Likewise ,all the objects in this tableaux are in transit . They have all existed in other contexts and purposes and for the present at least are part of this eclectic display . A little theatre of the displaced and disconnected . RM 2019.