Remember what you heard when you weren't even listening
2019

When I ask you to say it back to me / tell me again what you heard about windows by Melody Paloma

A return is not a repetition
when I speak of “intimacy”
it’s not always soft…
for instance
that I say: beach, pebble, cuff pulled up
that you say it back
doesn’t change
the way “mountain”
falls from your mouth

… Yeah, I can see the soft spot
but it’s not until it’s submerged
that it turns
that it becomes like morse
at the base of the skull
(you see, there’s a river in this)

There are words that I’d like
to show up here
not for the way they
dissolve
but for how they
move across the room

It’s a bit like
if I were to take this arm
and push it forward
at a certain degree
towards the table
but say
on the other side of the room
is a shoulder
for which
the gesture is intended

when your hat falls
I will retrieve it
I don’t need to explain that but
If I could, I’d place all of you
In this archway
stacked and under bricks
knowing full well
that this is dangerous
and that in
place of asking what you want
the staging parts our face

<p><i>Remember what you heard when you weren’t even listening</i>, installation detail, Watch This Space, Mparntwe 
(Alice Springs).</p>

Remember what you heard when you weren’t even listening, installation detail, Watch This Space, Mparntwe 
(Alice Springs).

'Why write, when country does it for us?'

Accompanying text by Tyson Campbell for 'Open to Close: Remember what you heard when you weren’t even listening” by Arini Byng for 'Watch This Space' in Mparntwe/Alice. Link to full text here.