Martin Slidel: Playerist Poetry Magazine: September 2011

From Playerist Literary Magazine No. 1, December 2011 (ISSN 2048-2515)

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Without You Piroska Markus

Previous Personality Ellen Nolan
Playerism Playerist

Yes Yes... Karen Ay

Message the Kids Pedro Consorte
Vineyards Mario Herran

Words and Wine Caroline Herran
Autumnal Ways Mario Herran

Autumnal Ways Caroline Herran

Previous Personality Ellen Nolan

Foresight Benjamin Soehnel

Loss Yassin Zelestine

A Remote World Carlo Keshishian

Photographer for Karen Ay Paul Tucker

Without You

I am without you.

I do not know you.

I miss you.

I have always known you.

I want you to become like me.

I hate myself in you.

Change yourself!

Hell wants you!

With you I am still without you.

Playerism

An engagement with the discourse of free-play is a model for self-learning and artistic exploration. Playerism is the play of the mind; the reality of pretend; the balance of perception and experience.

Message the Kids

1) Sometimes it can be difficult to make choices in life but every decision can be rethought and re-orientated to a new direction whenever you want.

2) People may not believe in you but believe in yourself and you will be able to do anything.

3) Remember that it’s essential to make mistakes because you learn with them.

4) Pay attention to what makes you grow; don’t waste your time on negative thoughts.

5) Pay attention to what you think and feel during the processes in life because that matters more than what you planned reaching.

Words and Wine

Sunday afternoon waking up,

A weekend gone in a coffee cup.

Milky memories swirling round,

The tapping of a teaspoon

Bringing back words and wine;

Words and wine are on my mind.

Outside first signs of Monday forming;

Grey clouds heavy sighs are calling.

Falling, my spirits crawling,

The tapping of a teaspoon

The longing for a silver moon;

Words and wine are on my mind.

Inside the clockless walls are beating;

Aching butterflies dance within.

More coffee is on the brew,

And still the hazy thought of you,

Words and wine come back to me

Don’t let the last drop be gone.

Spoken words cloaked in wine

Unspoken words choked in wine

Words and wine, you’re on my mind.

Autumnal Ways

Looking back on autumnal ways,

On wood-smoke, frost, tea-soaked days.

I can smell you through the deadened leaves

Falling from weary, wind-swept trees;

I can feel you through the bitter air

All around me, I know you’re there.

Searching back to September ways

To long walks on cold Indian days,

When hands and fingers unite, numb and thin,

In another’s pocket, seeking warmth within.

Looking back on autumnal ways

On sun-drenched, fire-fuelled days.

Curious how the chestnuts’ fall

Represents to nature a knell-like call;

Life creeps away from Narnia’s spell,

And only we, it seems, are left to dwell.

Reaching out to October ways,

Sat in the park on brief, gloomy days,

Before retreating to a crowded coffee shop

Our cheeks aglow; tea, pot after pot.

Wandering through autumnal days,

I wade through leaves and familiar ways.

Let me linger in this golden daze

Far, far away from Spring´s verdant glare;

For I can feel you in the bitter air

All around me, I know you’re there.

Previous Personality

Previous Personality explores my relationship to my mother as she recedes into dementia. I started photographing my mother and myself when she stopped recognising me as her daughter. The documentation lasted three years, exploring a journey of reversal and erosion. The title is derived from a section in the form I had to fill out for my mother, upon admission to her institution.

There is a strangeness of being inherent in this condition; an altered state where the family member shifts into another being whilst retaining the physical appearance of the former self. Photographically, I tried to reflect this state by creating images that are simultaneously uncomfortable and aesthetically pleasing. This mirrored the interior and exterior conflict of the illness.

My clothes were used as a visual reminder that whilst I had the freedom of personal expression, members of staff now chose my mother’s wardrobe – bought from a generic clothing company that visited the home on a monthly basis. I never got used to seeing my mother in these clothes and, together with her growing sense of alienation within her ‘home’, they came to visually represent her loss of self.

What remains when almost everything is stripped away? A silent negotiation took place through emotional and physical intimacy. Few words were exchanged except repeated utterings of love, and the remembering of who I am and who she was.

Photography as a medium seemed to serve the situation well. It was a record to capture my dying mother, a means to examine our state, and perhaps to create an alternative family album. Photography also seemed to fit the muteness of illness and ageing. The decision to include myself followed my concerns with the objectification of my mother. I felt that by joining the frame, I would challenge my position and my safety as a photographer in order to further explore my role as a daughter and my relationship with my mother at this time.