The Thing We Have Between Us
Charcoal, graphite, photoshop, and the quietly lonely inscriptions of Lydia Lott’s mind are welded into a series of poetic artworks. One for those feeling secluded in their own heads.
Luanna wonders: what is music for?
A music beyond listening; an idea of music as a temporary state of being in one's mind.
Two: Mario, Luigi, Dracula and a Witch walk into McDonalds
Across the room Dracula leaned elegantly against the wall, his long black cloak hanging smoothly over his shoulders. His hair was slicked back and shined artificially black under the light. His gaze was downcast, eyes glued to a phone screen.
Aliens, Spaceships and other things make more sense than traffic, my phone, the supermarket and God.
Like Arthur, I seem to be having some difficulty with my lifestyle, and I also find myself not understanding anything, at all, ever. Even the small things (coffee, mud, bathrobes) feel bizarre sometimes. I'm as paranoid as a robot, as anxious as a human.
One: Man in Olive-green Jumper Eats a Sandwich
A large bay window looks out onto the street below us and two armchairs are nestled in its curve. Sun pools on the carpet and my flatmates and I enjoy moments of an afternoon sipping tea, amusing ourselves by observing the peculiar characters that populate our street.