Thomas John Bacon

Blog entry day 2: 1st April 2017.


Transcription:

'The water surged through me.

Smoke filled my eyes. The

line of Hemp twine provoked me

into a response.

My feet and chest tightly bound.

The chill of the water

Left me immobile. With each step

the current dragged the Hemp.

Binding further into my flesh.

I am returned to a line 

that holds my life.

My body shakes. Uncontrollably 

my diaphragm orchestrates my

breath in contrast to the

tranquility of the water.

Every step hurts.

On the slate shoreline

my beached body inhales

the sickly sweet incense.

I ease into the humility of my discomfort. Ash falls

on my face and neck as the

sun occasionally breathes

warmth into the stone.

Under leafless trees and cold

blue sky, I immerse myself in the

stream. The water shocks the last breath from me.

Stone grates against my teeth.

I fail to hold onto it.

The line must return to me.

pulling against the current.

Returning to my body.

Wrapping around me.

Fighting against my immobility.

To live. To feel.

The warmth of embrace.

To return.

To exist.

Supported By

Arts Council England