Several projects on the go and skipping from one to the other. I think they link up in an obtuse way: sound work and writing a journal article about holes; of building a performance space in the old toilet and writing a paper on interdisciplinarity, of getting rejections and making new proposals.
the image shows my work-in-progress.

Time is no longer slow or fast.
I am running.
Pushing things to do into available time.
Time doesn’t expand.
Fixed, immoveable, immobile.
Measured by energy not hands of the clock.

I dreamt last night a complete-with-dialogue film, in colour and fully cast script and woke up in tears. It makes one question ones brain sometimes, just where did it come from? Wish, however, I had dreamt a completed paper! It would make today simpler.