Steve Bucknell's photos

Angiogram, maybe, of a colourful heart,

Greece

beyond the sea

Collage 2018

It’s better to leave the dust where it is. There are no ghosts only clouds that gnaw at the windows. There is no locked room. No mystery. That’s unfortunate. Yes. Oh, there’s that singing again. I must have left a radio on up there, or it’s Adrienne practising the Messiah. The stairs, by the way, are multi-purpose. This is the Main Library, of course. I’ve booked a pantechnicon for next week, all will be gone. Well, go on through: the ceilings are all hand stitched, the carpets are wet with moss. The front door sticks. I broke all these statues myself: arms, noses, penises, some ears. I was going to make a Classical collage in my studio. It didn’t work out, but I still have all the pieces . That’s the glory hole, surprisingly useful even in such a big place. Oh, Emberson? A local GP. He had the house built. Lived alone here for fifty years. A happy man they say; he died in bed. Yes, this one. Quite a positive, I think. We’re number 13093, as in Orphée, just off the A616. Perfectly placed. The postman always seems to find us. Now. Let me show you the tower, it’s amazing:looking down there’s a precipice and a raging torrent buzzards floating by below. In the spray there’s a rainbow. I never get tired of it. And in autumn I just sit and watch the dead leaves whirling and falling such a long way. You’ll like it. We just decided we needed something smaller.

Doddington Hall sculpture garden.

One candlepower.

Assemblage

Under the Sign of the Hourglass glass tied so tight presses in on us squeezes the flow so all that blown glass curved air quick sand silver holes in water must sink through us from skull to heel in drifts of used stuff trees sky minutes hours days shed skin we are dust motes the light the needle the eye the lens ash cloud dust all our particular comminuted days fine and and infinite grains sift away between chair and bed self and others being and nothingness until you find the glass and turn it again S.Bucknell. 22.11.55 - 22.11. 19.

Blessed are the mice, for they shall inherit the earth.

found under torn posters

Gale warning - issued: 09:45 on Thu 24 Jan 2019 UTC Southerly gale force 8 expected later Wind In west, southwesterly 3 or 4, backing southerly 5 to 7. In east, southerly 5 to 7, occasionally 4 at first, increasing gale 8, perhaps severe gale 9 later. Sea state Moderate or rough. Weather Wintry showers, rain later. Visibility Good, becoming poor later.

“One of these days the future will be here, and you won't be ready for it.” ― Paul Bowles, The Spider's House

in interglacial Holocene this artifact essentially one flattened Coke can passport greetings Valentine’s card encoding crucial steel informations canefructose enhanced instruction light alloy mortal metal remainders shrunken tin aluminium parchment rituals habits customs politics porn impact can crushed cranial violation study text leasts lacks fact look at it wrinkled wafer burnings sweetness crumpled mouthfuls bloody edgings gut deterioration black complication crushed bitumen gravels scrapings reduced pressed presence believe weepings stained silvered Veronica late Grauballe head image contains remains wounded // slit open throat garrotted destruction rotten dentition oily scattered fingerprints skin DNA in situ photographed finally recorded

It’s an adventure, finding a severed hand, a crushed cigarette, a globe or spider in a corner. You’ll find your keys will be under the cooker, under the fridge or on the top deck of the 57. Learn to walk again. Don’t wait to be ill. Go back to the beginning. Crawl. Hold onto the future. Supermarkets are just like cathedrals, particularly Lidl. They’re playing Caccini in the aisles. Then there’s money, food and kissing:you can get self-help books about them from Waterstones. Art? Look again at Death and the Maiden: now you can see she’s holding an iPhone 8. Only the French remain a mystery. No one can see how they fit in. France? Where is it, really? Atlas? He’s the one at the party you try to avoid. He’s so needy.” And what do you do? Oh….” Have you read the new A.Self ? To The Foot Of Our Stairs? Buy it now on Amazon, it’s great!