on a quiet day

Just a couple of weeks ago I found myself cutting out shapes from magazine pages and scrap paper.

Nothing particular in mind, just another odd compulsion. But I’ve been me all these years now, I’m used to this, I don’t give it another thought.

Some good will come of it. Meanwhile, I’ve got a heap of hands and fish and butterflies and cats and things. As you do.

Then this began to evolve.

IMG_6991

Now I’m as curious as the next person: What does this mean?

IMG_6994

Last year I was doing this (again, no idea why). 

IMG_6995

So I carry on, still not knowing, but enjoying the bejeepers out of the process.

Perhaps that’s reason enough, right?

IMG_7008

The words that I remember as I play join the page, they get buried in the mix.

IMG_7010

Somewhere under and amongst these layers sit the words:

“Our strategy should be not only to confront empire, but to lay siege to it.

To deprive it of oxygen.

To shame it. To mock it.

IMG_7011

 

With our art, our music, our literature, our stubbornness, our joy, our brilliance, our sheer relentlessness – and our ability to tell our own stories.

Stories that are different from the ones we’re being brainwashed to believe

….

 

IMG_7013

The corporate revolution will collapse if we refuse to buy what they are selling – their ideas, their version of history, their wars, their weapons, their notion of inevitability.

Remember this:

We be many and they be few.

They need us more than we need them.

 

IMG_7088

Another world is not only possible, she is on her way. On a quiet day, I can hear her breathing.”

 

– from Arundhati Roy, War Talk

%d bloggers like this: