Alldaybreakfast
‘It is the other rivers that lie
Lower, that touch us only in dreams
That never surface. We feel their tug
As a dowser's rod bends to the surface below’
Water resonates with our saltier selves, our amniotic beginnings, the depths within us, bodily fluids, tidal ebbings and flowings, the unplumbed depths that lie beneath the surface. The River Frome runs parallel to, and in places beneath, Stapleton Road. It is a hidden artery culverted in concrete for much of its urban length, emerging only occasionally from these artificial caverns. There is a real sense that this river no longer has a place in the contemporary manufactured landscape of the city. Nonetheless this awkward and unwanted little body of water persists.
That never surface. We feel their tug
As a dowser's rod bends to the surface below’
Water resonates with our saltier selves, our amniotic beginnings, the depths within us, bodily fluids, tidal ebbings and flowings, the unplumbed depths that lie beneath the surface. The River Frome runs parallel to, and in places beneath, Stapleton Road. It is a hidden artery culverted in concrete for much of its urban length, emerging only occasionally from these artificial caverns. There is a real sense that this river no longer has a place in the contemporary manufactured landscape of the city. Nonetheless this awkward and unwanted little body of water persists.
Locating the tavern as a watering hole, the stop on a journey, Diving into the Wreck places the physical processes of the river alongside stories, the hidden and the exposed.
