Thursday, June 1, 2017
I had returned home to find one of our neighbours had put a sofa onto the street outside the houses as an offering to passersby in need of a place to lounge for free. Resting on the sofa was a large sheet of glass (my own length if I were lain down sideways) which I leant against a lamp post so that I could sit down for a testing. From outside this casual moment a loud and penetrating crack like thunder, clap, brought me to my senses. Instantaneously an intricate network of tiny cracks flashed across the sheet of glass. For a short and arresting moment the rectangular shape with it's singular outline remained intact, shot through with a thousand branching fissures. The next moment a thousand tiny pieces of glass fell separately yet simultaneously to the ground in a grand whooshing. My mind was stopped, stopped thinking, and all my attention held in a sequence of rare and slow moments where one thing changed into another.