interActive word trade centre

Originally uploaded by deejaykay

Belatedly, some photos from the Foundry…

Runborn manipulations

Originally uploaded by deejaykay

Belatedly, some photos from the Foundry…

Sunset. Frizzante bones spruce the badger sky. Alice & Reuven are unusual friends – cumin-avocado sex on camera. Observation: fun!! of course! Orgasmo… Reuven & Alice, painting in saudade. Perpetuum mobile, fluid, facetious; tormented delight.

“Mesmerize happenstance,” shares Reuven.

Alice assimilates verisimilitude. “Serendipity?”

“Randomness,” Reuven exchanges. “Ten. Give no truck to antidisestablishment-arianism.”

“AntidisestablishMEN-tarianism,” returns Alice, when in rôles Ubu, all Krakatoa spectacles: “Wow. Bobalicious.”

“Drop the transcendental stupor, shit’ole,” returns Alice. “So nonconformist.”

“Heavy,” sniggers Ubu.

“Liebe, pear Ubu. Be peaceable,” blubblebaffs Reuven.

“You bimbumbam, I very much bang,” Ubu wibbles.

“We all investigate (en)antiodromia,” Reuven gives, forever suffocating. “Change shell.”

Id Ubu is intransigent. “Enemy wire, scarlet palimpsest, pudding blob. Schwiitz croplet!”

“Care… temperament,” Alice returns.

“Out!” screams Reuven.

Ubu diverges.

99 ice cream flowers over the tea-spoon – an ilaria-bally, a cataclysmic suerte of screams – and a lozenge of benzoethynol sunshine graces the ecstatic necromache.

* A reorganisation of all the words contributed by visitors to Runborn at Luxury Goods III. Note: I have cheated (slightly) by: repeating a few of them (particularly the names of the three characters); twisting some verb tenses and noun numbers; and adding a small sprinking of teeny-weeny words – a, an, in, and, with. Picture will be posted in due course.

Runborn had an outing at Luxury Goods III at the Foundry in Shoreditch from 9 to 13 September – six manipulations and a small installation called (rather tastelessly) the interActive Word Trade Centre. Visitors were invited to take a word from a box full of words (all the words from Born to Run, sliced up and written on separate cards) and exchange it for a word of their own. I got back about 100 words in return for the ones I nicked from the Boss, all of them excellent. Surprisingly few people broke the rules (whether through conscious rebellion or misunderstanding) and wrote more than one word on their card; only one word occurred more than once (antidisestablishmentarianism) and in both cases the writers failed to fit it on one line, but chose slightly different places to hyphenate it; there were only four proper nouns (Alice, Reuven, Ubu and Krakatoa) – although possibly grace could be a name, too; languages used include English, Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, German, Latin, Swiss-German(?), Greek and nonsense. Mainly the handwriting was legible, but I take no responsibility for misreadings of misleading scrawl. Two contributors contained helpful little drawings (a flower and a pair of spectacles) to ensure their words were understood .

Thank you very much to everyone who traded words. I will be using all these words (including the ones that broke the rules) in a new composition very soon. Watch this blog.

Sweat it out. Ride.

Get out. Run.

Let me in.

Guard your dreams. Wrap your legs, strap your hands – break this.

Run.

Drop.

Go back.

Walk with me. Find out how.

Know.                         (If love is wild…)

Want to know –               (…if love is real…)

Scream.

Try to look.                            (…die on the streets.)

Drive. Run. Hide. Live with the sadness. Love. Know when.

Get to that place. Go. Walk. Run.

I’m lonely, it feels real – hard, stark, huddled. Jammed, broken. Everybody’s left with the sadness in my soul. I don’t know when, where, really we were born.