27 December 2012

SUE BUTLER



Lee Sass' room

Living Room - How about this:
I am lying on my back on the floor, the magic carpet I am lying on is just short of me, I am 5'4''. I can't spread my arms out as I would put my right hand in the fire, well if the door was open on the stove. I could rest my left arm on the coffee table, but I might knock the candles and cups or the paperwork and assortment of notebooks onto the floor. The ceiling looks far away from here even though I know I could just about touch it if I stood up. The dog could easily slip onto my head with his inquisitive nose from his favourite chair. I must brush the hairs off the stripes. There really is only enough room for cat pose and leg lifts, that's my excuse anyway.

After some serious exercise I have to move to the sofa and kick away some of the paperwork to put my feet up. I can watch the TV from here now I have positioned it well on my designer boxes. The boxes are from my arts project which had sound built inside and a slot for looking out of. I have six but only two are holding the TV up. They form a sort of totem to TV. The other parts of the art project are holding up shelves behind the second sofa, its good that art is meaningful isn't it? - though I have to say the collaged art boxes and records propped between them hint at my interests and age! I have an attempt at getting up to date with a techno ispeaker/doc thing strategically placed for the most effect (along with an antique/old bit box). I'm full of contradictions, isn't that what makes life interesting?

This living room is true to its name, it is stuffed with things for living - musical instruments, books, computer, desk, files, cupboards and wii, not to mention artwork, mainly my late husband's - his black and white card cuts are both strong and sensitive and hang side by side with homage to him and his life's work made by me and close friends. He was a fiddle player and an artist, he is still here in a container in the corner of the room covered in a blanket of love, next to my old dog Lucy. No one knows he is here, just us. How sinister does that sound! I just haven't scattered his ashes yet.







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