Missing things
Missing things - a lack of substance - an empty package
Missing things - an inability to find the Thing
Hurriedly flooding through the streets of Glasgow each morning, I
observe a sea of drawn white faces: life less, colour less, blood less. I
imagine that if these bodies cut themselves shaving nothing would
leak out but stagnant air.
It does not sicken me as much as scare me, as I recognise one of
those lined, hollow, pale faces to be my own reflection.
Eleven months ago an angry drunken Swiss woman said to me "K..you
uphold everything European woman see British women as being. You
are without substance. In these times of war where is your blood?"
White ness. White faces, white eyes, white fingers.
White sliced bread, white ice cream, white sugar, white flour.
Refined, bleached, artificial, processed, produced, true colour and
substance removed.
Industrialised and economically efficient.
Socially produced and materialistically packaged.
Pale and without substance. This loaf of bread, this body.
Kate Stannard graduated with first class honours in Contemporary Theatre Practice from the RSAMD, Glasgow