'matchbox songs & gypsy hymns"...'existential umbrella'

I have often compared the placing of a completed work of mine in an art prize to tearing the pages from a book...that single page devoid of the previous or the one to follow often has little meaning...or at least its complete meaning can often never be made evident...the umbrella series as they are presented here are pages torn from a book...a suggested narrative... but text and image remain unrelated...at best distant cousins...i often think of what would be the musical equivalent of some of the things i make...in these the umbrella is a certain voice..at times words and sounds both spoken and sung...a cry..then a breath...a choir without a conductor...the text is constant...almost monotonous...the alterations in their blackness suddenly heavier single notes...an instrument that is familiar but is hidden from view... slightly out of tune...so one is never quite certain...the elements of collage paper..slithers of a particular sound...muted and transparent...in some of them there are sirens and crows calling...the silences of a figure curled up in a brunswick street alcove at 6am...or the eyes of a sex worker in the doorway of the laundromat..austere gallery windows.. soup kitchen gatherings...the new ones always at a distance...train journeys from the valley to southbank...diary pages...and the poetry of Lorca...but perhaps i'm reading too much into things...sp