A letter Concerning love in alfred

I decided to begin by working with the automatic writing we did in class.

I wrote it onto the instructional booklet from my sketchbook, and it took on a scroll or zine-like quality.

I transcribed the text because the booklet itself is hard to read from:

1. That place by the rocks
2. That place by the rocks with the tunnel
3. That place through the tunnel by the rocks
4. That place through the tunnel under the trees
5. That place under the trees and by the rocks
6. That place under the water that reflects the sky

That place through the tunnel under the trees where the water washes out the roots and my feet find home

That place under the under the under the trees and away from the sky and under the trees where they grow where they grow where they grow

Where the sky can’t find you

Where the sky can’t find us here

Under the trees under the trees under the trees where the sun is Where?

And you are here and I am under the trees

Where I am under the trees where I am under the trees where I am under the trees

Where I am under the trees where I am under the trees where I am under the trees

Where I am under the trees where I am under the trees where I am under the trees

Where He can’t find me and you can certainly try.

That place by the rocks where I can feel the hum and the sky can’t lift me here. Attached to the earth and the past and the land and the sky can’t find me here.

That place by the rocks by the rocks by the rocks

Where the Hum is loud and safe and the sky can’t find me like you can

But the rocks the rocks the rocks

That bind, wind, find, hind, yind, grind, kind

Kind Of bring me down.

You Kind Of bring me down.

I Kind Of wanted something else.

But now we’re here and I’m here and she’s here and he’s here

and there isn’t much left of us

Is there.

That place under the tunnel and through the leaves- through the tunnel and under the leaves where you’d find me.

Where Here is There and There is Here

And where are you?

That place through the tunnel and under the water

Where I, Where I, Where I

Figure this out

Where You, Where You, Where You

Just watch me

Where I, Where I, Where I

Find myself here.

Through the tunnel and under the trees

Where I, Where I, Where I

That place by the rocks with the tunnel-

That place by the tunnel with the rocks,

With the rocks, with the rocks, with the rocks

With the tunnel and the rocks and me and you and everybody else.

Everybody else and you and me and the tunnel and the rocks with the patterns that remind me of home.

Modern monoliths still phase me.

I won’t ask who made them

because the magic might go away, like everything else.

I won’t ask, I won’t ask, I won’t ask

What made you do that.

I won’t ask, I won’t ask, I won’t ask

Why I let you.

That place by the rocks with the tunnel and the trees and the leaves and the water and the wind and the roots

where

I won’t ask what even happened.

the place I chose to write about was the sculpture garden to the right of saxon drive, primarily focusing on the number 3 because of the three landmark stones just outside of it

for now, the ideal format for me would be to project the words of the letter onto the rocks:

documented by a video with the letter in spoken-word over it.

I’ll need to figure out

1. how to plug in the projector in an outdoor area

2. how to position the words correctly

3. how to record it

4. how to time this all correctly so the video and the spoken word move in tandem.

right now i’m working on editing the text, I emailed it to my english professor and she forwarded it to the poetry professor.