Paper Landscape on Skype like Vanishing Twin Syndrome,
the one eradicating the other.
Amy pivots, four-pointed images like VR on wallpaper, on screen, on wallpaper again.
Male hands, sequentially covering rings, the double-click regular but separate,
then reversed, living and clacking and whirring,
combining and layering.
Everything contains a rectangle.
Image as sound as image.
In Greece they danced, in Tokyo they sat.
You can’t fill a room with smoke anymore.
Light beams from Turkey into Summerhall,
a cinematic wormhole,
like matches lit in darkness, echoed later against a curved wall,
and left, afterwards, like puncture marks in exhausted celluloid.
Inspired by Collective-iz at B.E.E.F. in Bristol, January 17th 2018