Everyone on the bus watched the driver ignore my stop. I was busy in my head, writing my story, the outside moved into a fuzziness, and I forgot where I was. I was busy constructing my own universe through my art, unrestrained from the gravity of real life. I was window shopping feelings, and I missed my turn. I am feeling ashamed in front of others. The stairs scare me as I move down them, because I have already imagined falling when I was sat and the little bears decorating my socks feel wrong and childish. I get off, squeak ‘thanks’.

I am thrust out into elderly men who are slow and spiky girls, frolicking aisles like fizzing, faddish, fireworks. The fizzing is not always about boldness, or lustiness, it is sometimes gentle and soft or nervous. It is an ambient chiming. I orbit the supermarket in a mechanical satellite, stopping to feel the cold on my shins and stare at myself for a moment. The sideways slice of abundance illusion mirror between the stone fruits and the apples sharpens.

When I cry, I often do it with the bedroom mirror. The fruit doesn’t see itself but gets made superfluous in the slither of silver echo. The silver echo is copying your best friend or can be used to marvel at yourself or hate yourself and about knowledge of the self too. A silent form of education and truth.

I worry I don’t know enough about myself…but I do know about the apples. I know how they are waxy, shiny; I know the colours, how they taste and that they come from an imaginary folksy farm invented by the supermarket. I also know that an apple is attracted and pulled to earth, like everything else. Nothing possessing enough energy to escape the gravity of a black hole, and in an apple, it is bad thing.

Sometimes a black hole is very, very internal, multi-colour and mental. I arrange friends, into an oscillating paper chain in my head, all different colours and textures, material, sizes, feelings, neatness’s, and pull them into my own brain hole, which too is an ambient chiming, skipping, and rumbling. If lightning enters a black hole in space, it would be absorbed, having no effect on any observable, external perspective- instead it would contribute, buried and covertly, to a churning inside energy, hearty and great… greta thunder.

                                                 – Siân Newlove-Drew