Tag: Poetry
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Captain
Captain lending lines Weaker minds Prophetic patriarch Belly of the beast Followers like yeast Basbaball cap calamity Vitriol verbal depravity No nicotine yet orange fingers That rock suits you well Go on crawl under Come on you are unwell
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Wrecsam Art Vend & Onwards…
So its been a little while shall we say… Art vend I found out about the closure of Oriel Wrecsam (probably may favourite gallery) that i have such a connection with. It gave me my first chance to grab at the slippy old balloon of the art bubble dream back in 2008 on selection for […]
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A poem about leaving. Last Call For Whitfield
3 1/2 hours on train in 25 degrees builds a certain momentum to leave. Add this with the deadline of a departing flight to catch. In the time on the train from Milazzo to Palermo the only entertainment was a rather large bee that was flying up and down the carriage. If i could have […]
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Paris and The Sickness
I for the last years have been in Paris at this time of the year for Paris photo which was in the carousel below Louvre. It has now moved over to the Grand Palais, Avenue Winston Churchill in West Paris. I’ve spent so much time walking around paris I can find my way around it pretty much without a […]
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Alan Whitfield; A5, Conwy Castle, Projection
This is the video of me performing a visual projection on Conwy Castle in North Wales. It was part of the blinc digital arts festival 2012. I wrote it while traveling along the A5 between Capel Curig and Bethesda in the Snowdonia National park. It was written listening to the Beach boys on one of the only sunny days […]
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In the blinc
Well what a Weekend. Dogged by technical problems due to the power timers in the lights. I had a good response to the poems in the Bird Boxes along the cob leading you into Conwy and my projection on the castle. Thousands of people headed to Conwy, North Wales over the Three day blinc digital […]
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Tides
TIDES Lorys Hughes, Dieppe littoral enclave, traffic choked in its walls, buckling under load Christian & Nielsen added transport to draw… As a Jacdaw flies onwards over the wall where inner battles once raged, to a far corner of a sanded shore springs a millionaires playground, we await The Mulberry Harbor secret to be told. […]
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Directed
DIRECTED Press print and ink make our minds sync On the outside the eyes, gaze just an other face bars hold us apart do we know, marginalized cut out distance equal, freedom unsubstantial framed
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Inner
INNER The mothers clasp, in safety to hold, enclose. Inner winter warm repels the cold. Warms the soul controlled, relax, breath out, childhood stories told turning, caring, comfort it never grows old.
ALAN WHITFIELD 