Sensing Architecture : Movements of Human Bodies/Spatial Bodies.
Thinking/Making within gestures of drawing spatial speculation.
https://www.flickr.com/photos/russellmoreton/53757637955/in/dateposted-public/
Materials as Leaky Things/The Correspondences of Surfaces : For Tim Ingold.
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A Philosophy of Solitude.1933
In Defence of Sensuality.1935
John Cowper Powys
Exploring the space of solitude, to explore ideas and thoughts with a public. The hermit as a proto-performance artist displaying qualities of spirituality, intelligence, artistry and sensuality.
Anne Douglas.
The Hermit Project.
The Follies Journal. 2003
The House Fifteen Foot Square.
The proposed Hermitage at Cadland (drawing).
Interior Spaces.
The Alchemy of Imagination.
In the dead linen in cupboards I seek the supernatural.
Joseph Rouffange.
The wardrobe is filled with linen, there are even moonbeams which I can unfold.
Andre Breton. 1932
The Permanence of Childhood.
On Poetic Imagination and Reverie.
Gaston Bachelard.
While the child was dreaming in solitude, he experienced a limitless existence. His reverie was not merely an escape. It was a reverie of flight. Dreaming of childhood we go back to the den of reveries.
All the ideas that I want to put forth in this chapter tend to establish the persistence in the human soul of a nucleus of childhood. Of a motionless but enduring childhood outside of history, hidden from others disguised as history when it is narrated, but having real existence only in its moments of illumination which is to say in its moments of poetic existence.
Chamber Music/Reverberations.
Constructed Space/Ceramic Forms.
On Silences, Surfaces, Interiors and Depths.
Wardrobes with their shelves, desks with their drawers and chests with their false bottoms are veritable organs of the secret psychological life, indeed without these 'objects' and a few others in equally high favour, our intimate life would lack a model of intimacy.
They are hybrid objects, subject objects, like us, through us, and for us they have a quality of intimacy on the shelves of memory and in the temples of the wardrobe.
But the real wardrobe is not an everyday piece of furniture, it is not opened everyday and so like a heart that confides in no one, the key is not on the door. Many a time we dreamed of the mysteries lying dormant between its wooden flanks.
Rimbaud designates a perspective of hope, what good things are being kept in reserve in the locked wardrobe? This time it is filled with promise, it is something more than a family chronicle.
Exaggeration is always at the summit of any living image, and to add fantasy to linen is to draw a picture, by means of a volute of words off all the superabundant blessings that lie folded in piles between the flanks of an abandoned wardrobe.
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