An annual Collaboration Art Project
Negotiating nothing new.
Crossing neither with badges or ribbons.
Years entwined rolling in digital space.
Heading to puzzle town, no hesitations.
by Emmy Horstkamp 17/2/2024
The collaboration photos and poems are written daily and will be available in 2025 as a book published by FoxRavenPress.
The above poem was written from a longer Storeyean poem. Four poems were written today based on a daily commute between two locations.
Backup life lined up for today, Watching lines and dashed edges profiled. Edition three reflected through injuries. Life cornerstones missing, breathing space needed. by Emmy Horstkamp 15/2/2024
Architecture from someplace or another elsewhere. Cracks between the clouds, five to seven everyone is there waiting, everything stayed,for something. Moments ceased over the weekenders, paused, sitting tight, lying low. Now, holding phones, looking for Monday morning's push. By Emmy Horstkamp 12/2/2024
This morning I wrote four poems. The poem above is from the longer Storeyean poem.
Because my commute was longer, I left some of the calendars at home and decided to write those poems in my regular notebook. All of the photographs for the poems will be printed on stamped later in the week.
Today transformed into a sunny day.
Can we start the OTHER one?
A rainy friday morning impression.
Sight and faces again contoured.
by Emmy Horstkamp
Informal eight Commute
full of noise and bikes;
Looselipped conversations.
by Emmy Horstkamp
This morning, I commuted to work three hours later than usual. The crowd at the later time is different. The commuters sat together and talked during the trip, a little like the early afternoon commute.
They talked about work and other things which happened the day before or that day. I heard their words while standing near a bunch of foldable bikes. Someone was talking about the bikes and saying that if the queen stood next to a bike, the person might lose the bike if she stood by a bike, the bike could possibly be hers. So if the queen was standing like I was next to his or her bike, the owner of the bike would have to wait to see if the queen walked off the train with the bike or asked him to assemble the bike and then rode off on it.
I realised after hearing this conversation that there is a little bit of risk owning things in the United Kingdom. People of the Aristocracy or the Monarchy could ruin your commuter day by just liking your bike and inferring that they want it.
I promise the universe that if I want a second bike, I will go to the store and buy it. I will never take a bike away from someone except in an emergency, and then I would pay you for it. Promise.
No crying eyes ok.
Wait! Two cards to choose. Better get them out now, not knowing which one I used, Exit by the bridge owing for the ride. 5/2/2024 - 6/2/2024 by Emmy Horstkamp
Speeding through breaking day
Prelight blurriness of red, yellow, blue.
One station passes on the way to the following,
nearest stop to final destination.
by Emmy Horstkamp
Say it Gale gust. Bike weather delayed now wind and rain pounding the train. by Emmy Horstkamp 26/1/2024
This morning the walk to the station was a moment between gales. Reaching the platform, the rain gusts threw rain horizantal and soaked only half of the platform. There were a few people sitting on benches, a few people standing in the rain and a few standing on the other side of the platform which stayed dry.
The poems for today focus on the rain starting and stopping with the wind.
-Look right- Streaming rain against the windows. The train is faster than the rain. by Emmy Horstkamp 26/1/20024
Full-moon-set illuminating the morning for split-seconds. Three minute deluges stopping a moment. The beginnning of a simple day dry. by Emmy Horstkamp 26/1/2024
Windy walk today.
Puddles marking platform,
gusts in air fading.
by Emmy Horstkamp 24/1/2024
First train arrives on time.
Storm gusts blowing,
marking griffin appears,
guarding commuters - invaluable on rainy days.
by Emmy Horstkamp 24/1/2024
-Start- Heater begins to warm. Sitting on the train, I will not be late. Start my day - My Job - Today. by Emmy Horstkamp 23/1/2024
Today I woke up an hour before I had to be on the train. The time I start my day is important only to me. I am not on someone else’s timeclock. I start my day early to take photos on an empty train and to get to my workspace before the chatter of coffee breaks begin.
Today, at 700 there was coffee chattter… the first time in two months. I’m not sure what happened to bring all those people into the workspace on a Tuesday. I missed the usual quiet work morning as people spoke nearby. I did not get my usual few hours of work before other people crawled their way into my mind.
I wrote the above poem this morning. Below are the two poems that inspired it.
-Start- My day or I will be late. 5 more minutes. My morning or I will be the only one. OK. My job on time - This is a breeze. OK. by Emmy Horstkamp 23/1/24
Heater begins to warm, Sitting on the train, I will not be late Starting my day - my job - today. by Emmy Horstkamp 23/1/24
The third and first poem I wrote is:
The time starts my day, not the only one early, the breeze starts it's day. by Emmy Horstkamp 23/1/24
Each morning, I write small short poems in three different books and then use these poems as inspiration for my longer Storeyean poem.
The longer poem for today is about my commute and the words surrounding me at the office space. Some words from the above poems are used in the longer poem but, all four poems say different things about my morning in the UK.