The first job was to go round the 12 key objects I chose last week and answer my own questions, which you might remember from last week were;
- What do we say about the object?
- What does the object say about itself?
- What does it really mean?
Here they are:
Look at my huge feet, how easily they carry my weight.
It was a long way. It has been a long time.
I have treasures. I have secrets.
Spin me fast enough and my pods pop off, fizz like stars.
Roll me out. I will hold your nights and your days, your lives and your children.
I will whisper to you in my patterns, sing the wind in the Masi.
Sprinkle me with leaves, lay me with fruit.
I am yellow like the sun. I came across the miles. I was always here.
I was Persia, the Orient, Asia Minor.
I was war, death, dignity, defence.
I know your greatness. I will make you great in the eyes of the world.
I am pain - the kingfisher, the oyster, the silkworm, the hands that cut. Did you think it could be otherwise?
I am alien. I am earth.
We are all spacedust.
It was only ever hunger, life.
When there were nerves, this mouth knew the whole world which spewed into it.
I am the deep history of the earth. Collected, ordered, classified.
The earth resists this project. It flirts with chaos, comes back to us giggling with surprises.
I am every dog, scratching his back. I didn't see it coming.
I might have followed you, begged for scraps, licked your face. I have smelly breath.
This is my tree. I have not moved all week.
I am more threatened than threatening. Let me sleep.
Each one of us was part of something, a jar, a dish, a cup.
Our mismatched fragments become a new whole.
The balance, the baking, the baggies. I am your history too.
How might it be not to apportion - mass, time, value, love?
I realised I had not given much thought to the themes of water and migration during this. So I've picked two ideas to think about this week - trade and poisoned and polluted water.