&theyallfelldown

a mixed media book of observations, pencil drawings, meanderings, true life stories, small treasures.

$10

(free shipping)

Each book is completely handmade. Sewn objects, pencil scratches, cigarette ashes. The cover of the book easily detaches to become a weather drawing for a wall in your house.

Email knottedthread@gmail.com if you're interested in purchasing one.

fog paints itself thick over

abandoned early morning alleyways.

like walking through a transparent snow

drift.

damp clothes, humid skin.

cold hands link together in anonymous darkness.

eyes shimmer in flickering lamplight.

lamppost lights scattered down the lane like a stones skipped on a still pond.

silence

i hear a drip in the distance.

the stone has sunk.

lights out, daylight bursts out from behind the neighbourhood

where have we been? has time passed naturally or have we fast forwarded this scene as to bypass the sad parts.

the awkward silence, viewing our shoes slowly shuffling and digging into the dirt we stand on.

our hands drifted apart

left alone.

this paint is scraped away. peeled from my skin revealing something new.

dry. raw. i hope for moisture.

tears fall as rain, coat & moisturize my skin like a blanket of neutral cream in an unmarked jar.

i stand motionless.

i stand motionless for eternity.

watching the sun set a pastel sky on a january afternoon

the mountaintops glow gold white light

snow.

water tide. the oceans pattern, vibration.

a continuous rhythm. each slow motion crash against these weathered stones.

i am a stone.

sitting quiet. still.

helicopters & float planes lace above me in the cyan depths of atmosphere.

a fading drone of sound

fog in the distance near unknown islands

lit up amber haze.

parting skies leave bright white clouds as torn insulation

grey shafts of light over this sea. rain.

ferries seem slow from afar. leaving horseshoe bay and crossing to duke point.

cargo ships of colour close to shore.

tugboat companions.

lighthouse park. i will go there tomorrow.

sailboats. no sails. no wind. a pull to shore.

larger waves hit the shore now.

i guess a large vessel passed.

i missed it.

a powder shimmer gold across the horizon now

like a streak of eyeshadow across the eyelid of a child who has found their mothers make-up.

the sky dances slowly but beautifully tonight.

01.12.12 tower beach

I've been working on this mural in our kitchen. Feeling uninspired with paper recently so I decided to do some large scale work. I'm feeling good about it.

apply. apply. apply.

dawn,

creep into my bedroom soft.

wash upon my walls of hanging treasures in this attic hobby room.

a breeze that dances papers.

awake me slowly, quietly, a tip toe across this creaky old floor.

powder pastel pink. a mess of blush on a bathroom counter.

early morning haze.

say hello in a whisper, brush my hair with your wind fingertips.

call my name crows, brighten my eyes, push away this comforter of clouds.

over these mountains lies escape.

winter is settling in.