A Response

LOVELOCK 

I am in a frequency room. Eyes bombed by the colour frequencies, short and long. The modulating waves spray my ears. All travelling invisibly. Held by the brush mark, the sine wave. Their bounce a play of vibrations. I listen for the pathways. I try to pave the skips and bits that datafy the particle paint culminations. Generate the envelope of tingling pigment. Fragments push which on grasp, slip limp fuzz, move over, overflow. I am sucking up the haptic. The gestating gesture, mark by stroke. A signal flow, I listen for the exchange. The telegraph receiver. Emotions, feelings held in the shifting resonances. Scratched by grasps, tests, tastes. Amplified. Cast into the open holding. The elemental states. Eruption. Patch. Filter. Decay. The attack. A ground for the circuit. The shift. The return. The simulacra and the real. The modulating synthesised synthesis of time, memories, images. Shift the foreground, the background. Find a space to disappear. Stand still or with eyes aimed backward. Emotion locked. Love locked.

 

Tina Douglas

2020