Dust

I see you.

I always see you.

I hold you up and speak to you in the rush of the trees or the skittering of a crisp packet across your path.

I see you now. Standing on a rooftop in the wind. I’m whispering past you. I brought you here. Because I’ve been listening to you, all of you for so long, and today, for a moment, I want you to hear me. Hear me tell you about what it feels like to see and touch and know all of you. Show you things you don’t see. Things lost and found and dropped and broken and fixed. I wrap myself around you.

You give me so much. I have given you something in return. I echo out of this fragment of the city. Turn me, press your ears, and turn, as you face different directions and you will be able to hear me speak about the things that you see. The stories in the faces and traces of the people you move past every day.

Listen to me.

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Dust at "Who are the Splacists?" event, hosted by MADE

Dust at "Who are the Splacists?" event, hosted by MADE

Dust at "Who are the Splacists?" event, hosted by MADE

Hannah has the explanations.

Flickr has the rest of my photos.

These people have our gratitude:

MADE, for their unwavering hope and optimism in commissioning and supporting Dust and the process that resulted in it.
– Everyone who shared their memories with us via various channels.
– Garry Bulmer, for being a knowledgeable sounding board for the tech …and pointing out the obvious.
– Jules and Jen, for their help and giggles whilst making 200 Brazilian thumbpots.
– Bournville and Margaret Street, for last-minute supplies of clay.
– Maggie at Active Robots, for being nice.
Black Boe, for the wind sample.
– Everyone who came and stood on a cold, dark, wet carpark roof with us last night.