A Lonely Sailor Weather Station: Broadcast Series
The broadcasts below come form a weather station. However, instead of broadcast the usual marine shipping reports out to the sailors, this station broadcasts from the the lonesome sailor out in the ocean back to terra. The lonely sailor is caught up in the weather - has slipped out of human signal and entered into a fluid, wet zone of weathering activity. The weather broadcasts drift through multiple weathering experiments and collaborations with various practitioners and weathering agencies.
Iteration 2 below was created through collaborative experimentation for the National Arts Festival (nationalartsfestival.co.za) for the 2020 Virtual National Arts Festival, a supported collaboration between POPArt and Fak’ugesi African Digital Innovation Festival.
Meghan Judge, Craig Leo, Baeletsi Tsatsi, Rob Murray and Roberto Pombo. With Robin Kirsten and Ukwanda Puppets and Design Art Collective: Luyanda Nogodlwana, Sipho Ngxola, and Siphokazi Mphofu.
An exploration of amphibious living. Anchored on stories of dissolving, shifting and stillness: far out to sea, where land-based networks begin to crackle and skip on the boundaries of their limited existence, our lonesome sailor sits, moderate at first, then rising slowly
WEATHER BULLETIN FOR THE HIGH SEAS FOR METAREA VII.
ISSUED BY A LONELY SAILOR WEATHER BROADCAST
ON THE 29th of June 2020 AT 08:30 UTC.
FOR NORTH-EAST SECTOR OF METAREA. VII, PREPARED BY THE EMPTINESS OF A HOLLOW VESSEL, SEE AREA 2 BELOW.
NOTE: WX OBSERVATIONS.
COULD ALL VESSELS EXPERIENCING UNEXPECTED, SEVERE WX/SEA STATE PLEASE MAKE EVERY EFFORT TO REPORT THIS TO THE SPACES BETWEEN THE SILENCE BELOW.
Iteration 1 below was created as a way to begin finding a world, a mood, an atmosphere. It is inspired by memories of being adrift in the ocean (no winds certain wind pattern) after losing broadcast signal with terra, and the ways that opening to a shifting temporality of drift brought me into closer oceanic relations. There is also the phenomenon of people locked into terra who listen to the shipping reports to lull them to sleep at night so they can drift off. In this iteration of oceanic re-turn, differing temporalities are brought into encounters with one another through a play with time in film. The excess of this time-play is what moves the drift.
Differing bits produce a poesis of relations in silence and sound, stillness and movement. The worlds play with data, expanding it outside of power and into moments of release and desire. As a resultant excess, world that can be sensed form in glimpses that thicken the longer you stay with them.
I’ve been out here, delta delta, rising slowly. The frontal systems, 3 or 4, occasionally 5, have been sinking below my skin.
At times I am good, occasionally poor, becoming lighter in the afternoon. My breath tends to subside, lima echo, becoming zero after midnight.
The gust, unsettled and at times cyclonic, blows knots into my core, as we build our identities in a northeasterly direction.
As the night light grows at my surface, precipitation increases in an anti clockwise direction. Rough. Good. Calm. And we swell 3 to 4.5 meters.
The moving mass - all forty-four octillion living microbial cells - transmogrifies beneath me. November Oscar, November Oscar: at mid-period it transmogrifies me.