Printing on leaves, 2020


my body bends to the familiar paths but
I only know the shapes
from certain angles

I will always be an intruder

I cannot tell the structures;
surface is not narrative

the deer have started following
the paths we have made

I am the first to walk the path;
my face is tickled with cobwebs

this is not a safe space

only I know the shapes
from certain angles


I collected the hazel leaves fresh from the wood at the turning of the season. They stood out golden and green when most leaves had fallen and were turning brown and russet. I was working against time. I kept them cold and cool. I assembled the lead type, changing words and rearranging phrases as I went along. I printed on the leaves, aware of the tone and contrast of the text against the surface of the leaves.

I returned the leaves to the wood after scanning the leaves. They will slowly decay with the other leaves to make leaf mould for the next generation of trees.