INTERLOCUTION
Coconut Optimisim
Still image from a video work Coconut optimism
The period between 2020 and 2021 was marked by isolation, fear, anxiety, illness, and in the worst cases, the loss of loved ones. During this time, as we were cut off from the outside world, a question emerged: *What effect did the flood of images in the virtual world have on our minds when we could no longer access the world as we once knew it?*
During this period, I created a series of visual poems, with little premeditation or intention for a specific outcome. As these moving image sketches began to accumulate in my archive, I took up a residency at Artsadmin, London. Toynbee Studios, Artsadmin's space, seemed like the perfect environment to develop these virtual sketches into a more cohesive body of work. They became the foundation for a day-long performance piece, divided into chapters or exercises.
One of these exercises, designed prior to the performance, involved an open request for creative contributions from friends, colleagues, and the public. The prompt was simple: each participant was to submit a brief text based on an image of their choice—digital or otherwise—that held personal significance. The aim was to explore how our minds process the relentless flow of imagery in our daily virtual lives and to investigate the visual anxiety that arises purely from interacting with images in this context.
Participants were asked to describe their selected image using any form of rhetoric they felt comfortable with. The objective was to examine the perception of the chosen image from the contributor’s perspective, and through their words, transfer that experience to the listener.
What I received from contributors around the world was far more compelling than mere descriptions. The language they used and the imagery they evoked in the listener's mind was rich, poetic, and unexpected. In this video, I have embedded an image description by Minoli Salgado, a UK-based author and academic of Sri Lankan origin, whose work often explores migration and diasporic literature. While it’s fair to say that Minoli, as a published writer, is adept with language, it was her visceral voice that inspired the creation of this moving image work.
In this piece, you see my hands, a beetroot being crushed, accompanied by Minoli’s voice—and a fly, which was purely accidental.