LESS than a week since my last post and since my sister returned to the U.S., and it simultaneously already feels like years have passed, and barely any time at all.

Not surprisingly, temporal thoughts have been haunting me over the past few days, particularly returning to my parents’ house in Gloucestershire today. Everything about the place is so much quieter now, without my nephew and niece causing havoc with my boys.

Over the past few days, I have also been thinking cinematographically, psychoanalytically, philosophically and a little bit politically, thanks to various Slavoj Žižek films. His ‘Pervert’s Guide to Cinema’ is fascinating on the first three counts – and also a good reminder of some of the great films I still want/need to watch! A short trailer for this interesting documentary is below, or you can find the whole thing here.

On this front and also the political sphere, I’ve also been dipping in and out of various videos of him and Noam Chomsky ‘commenting’ (!) on each other’s work. Žižek is an entertaining (comic) presenter, as well as a man with some very noticeable nervous gestures/mannerisms. The following video I found quite fascinating, not just for Žižek’s thoughts but also for the insights it offers into his own life and personality.

Although not direct research, all these things have made great background inspiration for a new videopoem I’ve been busy working on this week. Talking of which, my sharing from Be[yond] for this week also takes a film form. As time has particularly been on my mind this week, it also seems apt that it should be the videopoem version of ‘From Archaeological Digs’ from the ‘Through the Ether’ section of the collection.

I actually shared a text version of this poem a few weeks ago (but here it is again for anyone who likes to enjoy the text alongside this performed version).

Unmown grass arches over an autumn leaf;
its serrated wafer edges, points softening
into an unfinished rainbow of browns.
This diseased mottling to hen feathers,
a fortune teller’s tea blend for the future.
How does this ageing work:
the next Neuropteris hollandica
preserved from these Renoir patterns?
Our child’s play caught in foxy words
or written into fern seed fossils!

                                                                  Living remembrance ungardened,
                                                  I grasp its wet stalk. History blades
                                  my hand, as I lift this not-yet-earth
                 from green skies. Into the chill
shadowing my world now.

Air dries the leaf. Dullness pinched
between flesh and nail, I return it
new to old soil. The rain’s stilled
acidic glass taints my fingers
with its changing transparency.

Which fragments – metal skin,
white teeth – will future’s children pull
from the ground while neoprene
grass whistles on their lips?
Past vibrations beyond them

Hope everyone is enjoying the summer. Here’s a sun (picture!) I made earlier – best savoured with sangria, Pimms or just warm, happy thoughts. Enjoy!