35mm film

Ongoing photographic and text-based series.


'If I were to throw a spinning top, would we stand and watch it land. A whirring prism that burrs and hums in front of sharp pairs of eyes, watching, waiting, chins grazed with ceramic cold, all our worlds flung out onto the floor before us as it catches in a crack and collapses, the spinning stops, an arm shoots out, clambering into the arena and whoosh it’s the same as it has ever been and sharp pairs of eyes stare right into a spinning top, willing it to turn and turn and turn as an animal bright fear hurtles across the space between us, until it catches in a crack and collapses, catches in a crack and collapses, and our limbs unfold, outwards with all the burnt-out colour of a wish gone wrong, murmurs of a mind fumbling for a dream to sit before them, like a calm and creamy glass of milk, as it falls to the ground, with a hum and a smack, leaving us suspended before it, turning on the edge of a feeling.'