Hyphen-Cathy exhibition, an amazing final piece made - a true collaboration.

seen from Canada

seen from United States
seen from Netherlands

seen from United Kingdom
seen from Georgia
seen from Malaysia
seen from France

seen from Canada
seen from Australia

seen from Canada
seen from United States

seen from Canada

seen from Malaysia

seen from Israel

seen from China

seen from Canada

seen from Canada
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from TĂźrkiye
Hyphen-Cathy exhibition, an amazing final piece made - a true collaboration.
Writing
NoiseÂ
âUm⌠sorryâŚ.er⌠Sir? You dropped your ticketâŚâ âOh, um, okay thanks.â ⌠âProbably donât wanna leave that behind, am I right? Probably something pretty important!â âYeah, I suppose.â âSo what is that, a ticket? For a train? Oh â sorry itâs none of my business. â âNo, itâs okay. No actually itâs a football ticket.â âI see. Which team?â âEr⌠Tottenham.â âAh.â âWhy? Who do you support?â âOh, I donât. Iâm just interested.â âOkayâŚâ âItâs dated a while ago, huh? Why do you keep it? Sentimental?â âNot really, I guess I just never empty my pockets.â âIâm the same. Still got an old stick of gum I must have had for about three years in there.â âMhmm.â âAnd these glasses, theyâre old. Just have the lenses changed. Theyâre a little small now, if you see, but I like them. Theyâre, like, vintage-me.â âYeah I get it.â âSorry, didnât wake you up, did I?â âNo, I wasnât asleep.â âDidnât think you were. Odd place to sleep on a tube, wouldnât you say? Lovely place, but still odd.â âYeah, I suppose.â âDo you like the underground?â âUm⌠Well, I never really thought about it before. Itâs alright I suppose.â âI love it. Ride the trains all day.â âWhy?â âItâs as good a way as any to pass the time. Wouldnât you say?â âI guess. So are you just riding them today?â âYes. No. Well, kind of. See, I am going somewhere. Just like taking my time to get there.â â⌠I see.â âReally? Not many people get that. See I donât think there is such a thing as âwasting timeâ, because the very act of âwasting timeâ is time well spent, in my book. But sometimes I think thatâs just me.â âAh⌠Well, this is my stop. It was nice meeting you-â ââ Cathy.â âCathy. Right.â
Silence
It was always packed at Paddington at four so much so that Cathy considered as she always did getting off of the tube and continuing her time-wasting by foot for today especially that would slow down time nicely but the train was already moving off and Cathy had found her seat her favourite seat only person in London her mother always said to love the tubes she settled her book on her lap and faced the blank pages they were always blank these days her eye was caught by the flicker of a mouse tail nearby it was the shoe lace of the boy next to her scattered in artistic disarray across the floor his sleeves were slumped at his side and his baggy jersey straightened and creased as the body beneath sighed to the beating hooves beneath the train eyes were closed beneath the brim of his hood but Cathy knew he was not asleep probably just pretending she peered closer at the laces under the rims of her glasses they were an ombre of mud and dyed nylon the result of a thousand careless wanderings maybe late at night in places you wouldnât expect mud to reach  like a corner of Camden or a dark alley in the East end under spider-webbed streetlamps that block out the stars she turned back to her page but her eye was caught again by something falling nearby she scratched that something fluttering nearby it was made of paper but it wasnât a shopping list and it wasnât a letter that much she could be certain of it was something official a ticket of some kind maybe it was for the cinema from the date-night of a failed romance or a train ticket one to visit someone who lies ill a grandmother with her eyes barely open waiting hopefully desperately expectantly for her grandson to arrive to say his goodbye but will he come will he ever make it if this ticket lies abandoned trodden into the chewing gum and dust to leave her waiting always waiting?
Gently, Cathy reached down and picked up the ticket to give back to the boy.
Silence
It was always packed at Paddington at four so much so that Cathy considered as she always did getting off of the tube and continuing her time-wasting by foot for today especially that would slow down time nicely but the train was already moving off and Cathy had found her seat her favourite seat only person in London her mother always said to love the tubes she settled her book on her lap and faced the blank pages they were always blank these days her eye was caught by the flicker of a mouse tail nearby it was the shoe lace of the boy next to her scattered in artistic disarray across the floor his sleeves were slumped at his side and his baggy jersey straightened and creased as the body beneath sighed to the beating hooves beneath the train eyes were closed beneath the brim of his hood but Cathy knew he was not asleep probably just pretending she peered closer at the laces under the rims of her glasses they were an ombre of mud and dyed nylon the result of a thousand careless wanderings maybe late at night in places you wouldnât expect mud to reach  like a corner of Camden or a dark alley in the East end under spider-webbed streetlamps that block out the stars she turned back to her page but her eye was caught again by something falling nearby she scratched that something fluttering nearby it was made of paper but it wasnât a shopping list and it wasnât a letter that much she could be certain of it was something official a ticket of some kind maybe it was for the cinema from the date-night of a failed romance or a train ticket one to visit someone who lies ill a grandmother with her eyes barely open waiting hopefully desperately expectantly for her grandson to arrive to say his goodbye but will he come will he ever make it if this ticket lies abandoned trodden into the chewing gum and dust to leave her waiting always waiting?
Gently, Cathy reached down and picked up the ticket to give back to the boy.