After a slow period of recovery, whilst still under distancing and quarantine conditions,

we began escaping the house to search for an external room with its own walls.

A wall large enough to hit a ball against.

To build upon our lagging physical and psychological conditions,

Throw, strike, catch, drop.

A rhythm. An exchange during blurred times

Inside and outside

A different kind of isolation

Shadows of our former selves couped-up

Something slips between us

A lack of precision, a struggle,

We keep dropping . . .

the

ball.

This was repeated over the course of 3 weeks.

Until we no longer needed the wall.

We needed something else.

Audio Visual and written works 2020