My mother had an entire room full of hidden things
|Lucia Ganieva @ Lens Culture/|
Sarah McCallum on the pleasures and fears of crowded rooms @ Turbine.
Sometimes at night I stand at my window and fly. Out over the hill that drops to the sea, with my fingers dragging through wave tips I drift over oceans, leaving a barely visible snail-trail of luminous protozoa across the skin of the sea.No creature loves an empty space — except, perhaps, when they are crowded by the concreteness of existence.A bed. A chair. A mirror. A wardrobe. A light fitting.A curtain.A table.I could write endlessly about the rooms I have lived in, the beds I have slept in and the chairs I have sat in.I could write hopelessly about the buses I have waited for and the waiting rooms I have waited in.I could write tirelessly about the spaces I have seen, been and done.read more