The two aren’t linked other than I worked on them around the same time. Over the past two or three years there’s been the challenge to capture a landing pigeon. The form doesn’t improve, they get no better with practice. Drawn anatomically, using measurements and texture doesn’t cut it – their toy-like eyes and roundedness make them look fake, like a Christmas decoration, an ornament. Convinced the closest is a splatter on an otherwise still scene, with the feathers a scattering of lines like an outline seen through fast-blinking eyes. Still, practicing that in Albert’s Square undoes the nature of their movement, which is seemingly so soulless, so random, which is why people always believe they will fly into their faces on Market Street when, at the last moment, they skilfully dodge, like there was some design to it after all.
The song. It’s untitled because there’s the idea to do more with it. Marks the time, the shortening days, the funeral. Creatively, finally stumbled along the obsession of synths, whiling away hours perfecting sounds that you really, really would have to want to hear. But they’re there, I know they’re there, you just have to want to hear it.
In case this sounds all too much like bollocks, here‘s some reasoning.