&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

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.

to be like you

to just be, sit, become covered with dust, damp from condensation, cold from the draft.

& you are

all of the boats from all of the worlds are arriving

i hear this tap tap tapping

but i know i will not drown

this sea from the sky will let me float

let me float

let me float

oh please, please, let me float.

these wooden planks above me

this overgrown jungle reaching for my skin

trying to take me back

this tap tap tapping

this sea from the sky

this rain sound. this hammering.

this "let me in, let me in please! please!"

i want to open the door

i want this water to rush over me.

take me away. take me! take me!

the boats with their lights in waiting

they know i will not resist

my desire is too strong.

"open the door, open & float, open & float."

this unknown

this bleak darkness dotted with starlit boat masts.

flags in the wind

hair swept back. preparing. preparing.

"open & float, open & float."

unlocking the door

watching the water flow through this splintered wood.

overgrown tropics

rush. rush. rush.

i'm holding back

pushing against this wave. this overwhelming. this saviour.

my arms ache & give way to this new landscape that picks me

up. legs lifted

& i float, drift from the doorway and out into this

sinking jungle.

my body undulates on top of this sea. above, sun rises.

calm. float. let go. eyes closed. soul calm.

warmth on this skin that feared so of the sound of

water.

that tap tap tapping

that patter on this sea that carries me.

i float. i float. float. float.

hold me. hold me. hold me.

tap tap tap...

- parcel - wherein she realizes she is beautiful, and is capable of beautiful things

(myself & fraser)

listen to the track here: open envelope collection

the sound of the sea sinks into me here.

blue grey expanse of water that knows its

form and movement. it knows where to be

& it is there. always there.

lapping against the shore. these rock bluffs

that let me sit while i sit with them.

they know where to be as i know.

moving pattern. water that wraps this place.

these rocks erode as i decompose. both unnoticed.

boats float on this landscape almost silently.

i sit here quiet, being as all things are

being. the rain falls. water being water. it

knows where it is to be. cyclical. the pattern

changes. dots upon this patchwork quilt of sea.

i listen. an audible pattern of movement. the

sky is grey & its tone unmistakable. the sea

of the sky. a mirror of the earth & its ingredients.

i move just as it moves. the islands sit silently

& green. this grey makes green & creates the same

movement that is in this skin.

days spent almost alone
crossword desire
you hold the pen, i'll do the thinking.
no answers.
-------------------------------------------------------------
i want to be a tree.
i am a tree.
-------------------------------------------------------------
cloud cover confusion
-------------------------------------------------------------
days are becoming shorter
clouds sink down into the valleys
formed by cement roadways, office buildings
funnel the grey across cigarette corpses &
unpaid bills.

drift

& when the earth shatters we will sit and watch
the persisting glory of crumbling buildings
fires burn.

we dance

the earth will not go dark
but will glow like it never has before.

his eyes reflected
the ocean & all my
past memories faded.

he stared at me with
his eyes filled with
an absent sadness.

straight laced.
navy blue.

pressed my hand into his
chest of hair resembling
a field of dry marsh
grasses in december.

a brisk day of sunshine
& below average temperatures.

dry cracked skin
his hand caressed my
shoulders.

skin & bones resembling
rolling hills of
golden wheat.

a summer day that
has yet to be experienced
or appreciated.

& when i wake in the morning i inch closer.
sliding my body against the blankets i make it to your sighing body.
warm & enclosed
in my pale orange blanket.
i unwrap you and you tie me up in the package of your arms.
i place my head on your clavicle & you nod your head down,
kissing my hair like sealing an envelope
& addressing it with a sleepy "good morning"
& we are sent away for a few more moments

of sleep.

sleeping in the winter garden.
we wake & wander through the brambles.
take my hand, touch the snow, feel the cold in your bones, your skin turns red, dry.
i will warm you, i will make you feel loved.
i will pour tea into your heart, steep until you notice me.

overwhelmed, overcome by these clouds.
these feelings of despair, grief, nervousness, dreading the all encompassing bliss of being here

&

holding your hand as the storm passes us by.
we do not own this land.

Pen and ink on Montreal Canal paper.
New work, more to come.
Best viewed on Flickr.

hazy days
where everything feels slow but you drive fast
arrival, where? here.
we have no need for watches
we have no need for time traveling equipment
so unload the van
gather those strings, that fabric your friend gave us in the last city, the instruments, the paper planes.
get in, we are going to calmly fly, into dreams
into the palm of your neighbours hand.

& everything dangles,
gleams,
stays.
we all fade away, we all disappear
& i can't fucking wait for that day.

& she forgot about the future,
the changing weather,
the patterns of her heart and how it affected the freckles on her skin.
she just slept and everything grew over and around her until she completely fell apart
and her bedroom was industrialized.

those waiting moments of time
stop
don't stop, we are moving very slowly in a fast way.
stare out at that sea of mess.
clean me, just fucking clean me.

we stand still and stare
you're always quiet, i guess that's fine.
"you're learning." you'll say.
i will think and wonder if that's what i should be doing.
sometimes you read my mind.
close the book,
put it back on the shelf.

& this is the night that is hard to forget and i am okay with that.

just learn to let go
"clouds grow underground you know."
i'm never sure if you're lying to me.