Day: 14
Days remaining: 1

Today things rose from a horizontal sleeping state into one of vertical alive-ness, becoming more alive even than their maker, who was feeling tired today to say the least... it was a day of huge steps and huge changes, aided by the fleeting but much valued visit of power-drill wielding Terry Hackwith and leaf-painting Rachel Drazek. A tree stands now, broad and proud, ready to be decorated, embellished and cherished on stage, and a medieval king and queen loom above me slowly inhaling, ready to take their first steps...









But tomorrow is the crucial day. Tomorrow all the questions I have avoided answering up until now have to be confronted, but they are the very driving force behind the decision to take on this project...
Tomorrow I will pin a scrappy sheet of A4 paper to the wall. On it is listed the sequence of nine folk acts performing within the three hour time slot of this event. And inbetween each act is a strange scrawl of pencilled notes: "Start of spring, three blossoms on, medieval king and queen take one step inwards....." The notes detailing how this visual story will be told, in nine installments.
But how, how can pictures tell a story by themselves?
This scene comprised of pictures will move by human intervention alone, but how should a human perform this act? Is it an emotional act? A clinical act? How does the world of humanity interact with the world of pictures?
Do pictures carry sufficient emotional weight by themselves to not require any additional impact by means of how they are physically handled by the manipulator, the puppeteer, the individual placing them within the physical space?
.....Do pictures contain their very own language?
When left to their own devices, what power will pictures have over people?