Poetry Night @Stroud Book Festival 2018

Wales. Time spent somewhere other than here.

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‘It is unfortunately hard to recall our quasi-permanent concern with the future, for on our return from a place, perhaps the first thing to disappear from memory is just how much of the past we spent dwelling on what was to come; how much of it, that is, we spent somewhere other than where we were.’  (de Botton, 2002)

Photography: ©John Stadnicki, 2018

Selfie(sh) Culture

Study I, 2018

Study II, 2018

 

 

 

 

 

Study IV, 2018

Study III, 2018

 

 

 

 

 

 

Study VI, 2018

Study V, 2018

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Photography: ©John Stadnicki, 2018

Plastic

The local MP came to visit today.

He played with his tie, in the half-empty boiling hot working class room.

Nobody offered him water.

He looked outside at the summery breeze and chewed his nails for an hour or so.

I tried to think of a question.

But all of them were already answered.

He paused and smiled at the camera.

I had a name-tag around my neck.

He had nothing.

I sat on a tree-legged small plastic chair.

He sat on a piece of cake.

Photograph: @John Stadnicki

What Happened with Clare

to Clare B.

Clare didn’t wear
green trousers anymore.
It was a kind of winter
so she decided
other colours were
better suited for her there,
as she sat on the cross.

Her face had lots of
squares and dots and lines on it.
I remember at one point
some glue.
Her face had music.

Clare didn’t say much but
I noticed how she put down
the empty cup
and replied ‘well, good bye then!’.

Her giggle melted in a slice of bread,
flowing over a blank canvas.

IMG_3693.JPG

Photo: Maria Butunoi