Writing
Excerpts from the forthcoming artists novel, HermiH, a collaborative project between Naomi Lewis and Charlie Cattrall. We conceived the plot for this book during lockdown, using a joint dreaming practice, directed by the idea that the story had a life of its own and we could to seek to allow the tale to tell itself. The book is formed of poetry, prose and image.
He rides her like a goddamn stallion
And the glory of their gaze is thinner than he’d like
She’s looking at him from somewhere he wants to slap her for
Wants to pummel her perfect little face into bloodied oblivion
But doesnt want to spoil the show
And thinks of how the flesh would be pulp in His hands
As he finishes to uproar and a Mexican wave
Her smile
Beatific and wide
Already gone
As he lifts her back onto The Grey
And she rides to the famed tower that leans over the abyss…
Then his feet almost waltzing, whatever a waltz might be. Men and women waving flags, horses parading, cheering and good cheer. A memory…? of some long ago world, a fiction surely, grandeur, gold everywhere, gilded lands, hope promised for the few pretended for everyone. “All this cannot be yours, but do celebrate our victory with some tiny cakes and a cup of tea. marvellous, and at the end of it all there he is, The King, The Master, a horse for a throne, dead obviously but polished to a high shine, a patent shoe of a horse. “I colonised it all, every last bit is mine, all mine, oh yes, and you love it don’t you, yes you do, you love it. I’ll give you some pretty icing for your cupcake and perhaps a little flag, and we can all pretend we are one. But naturally, it actually means that I am The One
Zines: coming soon