An extraordinary sequence that puts pressure on language to unsettle expectations and raise vital questions.
This collection mingles the real and a surrealism of the understated Magritte kind to insinuate, with carefully modulated images and rhythms, a subtle disquiet that tests the boundaries of mental health and 'normal' apprehension.
Extract from 'The World Is Full of Toilets To Cry In'
Old smelly ones of course, uninspected, with cracked floor tiles, damp inglorious seats and broken locks, where one tap gushes forever hot and the dryer doesn't work, even if you bang it several times. And where you're not so poorly as to fail to notice the plethora of metaphors.
I can feel more at home in posh ones, conference centres, government agencies and four star hotels (you can sometimes sneak in if you're desperate) where Mozart streams in from unidentifiable wall speakers and the soap and incense sticks, in your justifiable fury, are easily nicked.