A.

[allisamurphy]

making lists, a note. please don't forget that fine detail. It's so important. "how could I forget?" words burned into flesh, uncompromising, and steady. stedfast and on its way to you in 5-7 business days. post office lines and apricot jam in boxes. I study the map and track its route. which would be the quickest way there? thinking of Henry Moore and Louise Bourgeois sculptures that have shaped time for me. Maman and Large Two Forms.

[allisamurphy]

sitting in a cleft. floating, if you will.

dancing, ducking, dossing, mucking about. isn't it fun? living in synapse? I suppose sometimes it is. and I suppose sometimes (I know) it isn't. the liminal in-between. the neither here nor there, neither yours or mine. so I'll keep floating, along this proverbial river. starting at one point, ending up at another. until I reach my final resting point. held on to a rock. transmission, attach and release.

[allisamurphy]

Soft yellows, and the trees all dressed in mustard. You're in paisley. Real softness, and similarity. Closeness and kindship. I feel Honeysuckle purple. Flower and fruit, always identify before consuming.

[allisamurphy]

Disorientation Trying to grab on to something to stabilise.

January brings ritual with bitter oranges, and slowness. Boil the fruit whole, scoop out the flesh, keep the juice, slice, and boil again. I am finding the motion again. Through repetitive dance we find rhythm.

[allisamurphy]

friends in Glasgow, 2023

[allisamurphy]

[allisamurphy]

Glasgow, November 2023

[allisamurphy]

Margate Beach, 2019.

[allisamurphy]

Calgary, September 2023

[allisamurphy]

Vancouver Island, September 2023

[allisamurphy]

Toronto, September 2023

[allisamurphy]

The tree that shimmered now dawns a new yellow coat. A testament to time passing. One day soon a strong breeze will rid it of its golden aura and winter will be here. my candles have been lit some are meant to resemble the scents of the season. kinda smells like cookies, and it is so picturesquely North American, how I wish I were there eating pie with the rest of them.

[allisamurphy]

70's cabin, located in battlefield. I'm creating order, but my mind is foggy and my nose is stuffed. I squint my eyes and feel the strain. I'm trying my best to focus. Counting the days, told to stay present. Head jumps ahead to family, homes, adoration. In my mind, clairvoyance. I predict you just showing up! Too old for me anyways.

[allisamurphy]

Mid October, 10AM. Not enough rain to keep you inside, but enough to get drenched on the way to Langside Cafe at the top of the hill. Roll from the caff in hand, and feeling as miserable as the weather. Link sausage, tattie scone, brown sauce. The brown bag is already soggy, like me. Eating carbs and meat and sauce on a buttered yeasty roll from the place round the corner. They also sell candy hard enough to break your teeth. Cheered me up though.

[allisamurphy]

balancing the scales and assholery. the sound of screaming coming from a distant neighbour watching an old horror film. the blues follow. a different kind of wail. the shimmer of summers green glitter trees catch my attention. all shaking their feathers for my bid. I sit quietly in the bay. Grey couch, hosting those glittery green trees and their forgotten items. “I really hoped no one  would have seen me there.”

[allisamurphy]

Scouring the streets Turning over rocks and rotten logs. Peering into bushes, and over fences. Looking for something. I’m looking for ... something.  I’m sure of it. Numbers falling in duplications. It’s gotta be that. “why did I come back here?”

[allisamurphy]

He asks, “what is a feeling?” And all I can think of is that certain lingering thats been haunting me for days. That certain lingering I am absolutely certain about. It’s been hanging at the top of my chest, pressing  down, and deep into my body. My breath is tight, but excitable. My words rushing out of my mouth. That feeling so indisputable! it’s there,  can’t you feel it?