part eccentric part workman - like - Glenn Gould approaches the piano (which he just had delivered from his living room) - after arriving with his hallmark battered chair: apparently on the verge of collapse, it proves solid - now, assuming a distinctive detachment from his hands, he begins to spray notes over the area around that instrument, drenching his audience and saturating - we can say, in that figure, that audience in time
here the opposite of fluency is true: all kinds of hesitations, diversions; repetition, stickage - stickage is really the mark of [[emph +]] this time experience: everything drenched in sunlight, the twigs, standing up outside the window in the middle distance, oscillate in the wind, a pigeon comes and veers out, the ivy, which has not been cut back, twists its leaves, rooting in the brickwork of the wire factory, it's a matter of time before it becomes, again / inside the factory, we can only imagine the shining wire comes - is coiled on the spools / above the roofs, the air shimmers around the vents, the pictures of p, s, s, ansel adams with a mule, my great grandmother noleen awalt with my grandmother von ceil, s with a big boletus, m knocking cherries from michael and marion's cherry tree - sit, mute, obvious, in front of that living landscape, constantly brushed and agitated by wind - the written object, in the same way, alternates between this liveliness, agitation, and the threat of deadness, emily dickinson's obsession - old ground - as an object it is about objects, so about lack, for instance, substitution: it's about need and longing - no sooner does it resolve, thought, in to talking plainly - about s or d - it collapses its, time economy becomes a dead straight line -no sooner than it starts talking about d, it falls deaf to its limits, the inadequacy of its conditions and, the shame of its condition, that: it can't achieve anything, even any kind of termination, not to speak of alleviating the suffering that surrounds it - try writing to the Deputy Assistant Secretary of Defense for Detainee Affairs about nasal intubation - see what happens - don't hold your breath - try getting permission to keep b - in the meantime, this kind of idling, carding activity goes on, working over stuff, with no clear tactic to speak of, at all
on one hand we can think of an op portunistic tactics, that picks up on whatever random initiatives it finds going on, and works with those. on the other hand, we are threatend with destruction. any moment, we feel, we can be caught. one day your child will get caught, s/he thinks; you will come up here and bang your head against the wall, shouting out to nothing - begging for alleviation, from nothing. the nightmare figures of childhood, arriving as massive thumbs or arriving as crackling roaring bores of fire rushing up the elevator shafts of the appartment block, by the Barracks, have been fully realized, s/he can say, in the terrestrial forces which are routinely played over the scene like water from a hose, which have fully shaped themselves to your worst fears, everything, in this sense, confirms your fears, rendering a person as one of those people that go hopelessly about shaking their head: shaking and shaking their had as they see, in effect, everything turning out for the worst, as everything falls exactly into place as they anticipated from the paper that won't go in the bin to the car radios to the forest fires - they're doing some work in the street, producing a series of loud bangs as they ignited the flame gun, now they're burning the surface off the street, s/he thinks is what they're doing - it seems a strange thing for them to be doing, the council, on the face of it, is it a good thing, they're doing?
a small flock of racing pigeons turns about the expanse of red cement tiles, the sky is almost clear, they drop back again, turning behind the eucalyptus tree and back to the right, dropping among the roofs - the sound of the scorching has stopped, the sound of planes is all, barely audible to people around here - you start to barely notice it - here they come again, flashing white and grey - in the same way a swimmer struggles on the surface of the sea, like an insect, until, weighted to where they can barely walk, backwards, with their tanks and flippers, they manage to sink below the scintillating surface of the sea: in to an area of greater quiet, less agitation, more, on the other hand, sense of the muscle of the sea, the force of its longer flows, the slower, irresistible movements - anytime we see somebody wearing specialist equipment, we think they must be investigating such a region: below the surface, too small or too big to perceive, impossible, in its way, to comprehend, - somebody with a pencil and paper - no sooner do we see somebody with a pencil and paper, or looking through binoculars, than we look around with great interest: a moment ago we were passing without a second thought; suddenly: seeing this person drawing a line from top to bottom of the page, we become aware the walls around us, displaying these silent paintings on metal and canvas sheets, hold us in a prism like vessel, within which an unspoken interchange is occurring, between objects made a year or two ago by an eighty year old man - we have entered a curious perception heightening contraption in which the physical presence of people and other things, approaching parity, is heightened, with the exception that we cannot approach and examine these people, these guards, for the most part, touch them, or the objects they are invigilating - caught in this hesitation, in fact we are captivated our, thoughts bounce, between this cellular space and the: world outside, where shortly before we were followed, from behind and even from in front, by an unknown woman - the trees across the park are sprouting at their highest rate, a man was playing keepy uppy with a bean bag under the glistening chestnuts, the strange woman hesitated, apparently flustered, perhaps driven mad by the scene in front of her causing her to seek out a strange man to follow him, on her way home with bags of clothing she had just bought, beyond the park it seems to me lies Baghdad - here we hear of the routine kidnapping of children and young people, so that a family never knows, in effect, if it will be able to assemble in the evening around the kitchen table - whether, in fact, it will be necessary to begin the experience of wiping the eyes, biting the lips, finding all your bank statements, which were never filed, because you were too busy doing joined up writing with your son - these are the kind of old trousers a person uses for gardening - bending, a moment before, a person stands to full height among the rows, as if, forgive me, they have been studying - something about them makes them knowledgeable, ready for real human contact, experienced, needy - what's the point of dressing up now - what is it, you are doing? my parents used sometimes to call ahead, s/he thinks, to ask, as they used to say, what the men were wearing - now we are like the man over the road - who knows where he stores all those clothes of his? blazers, shorts, nine times out of ten he comes across as a snappy dresser, sauntering down to the corner store - next time you see him, he's dressed as a policeman - everyone's come in downstairs, s is crying, m is hitting s on the head, s is shouting, p is [something] m to get him to wash, nobody's needs are met in this house, the needs are at once small and immeasurable, proliferating like spring growth, - this is the [[[ ]]] within which you spend the next hours