Charlie Lee



    Production DesignEmile Is Missing

    Art and Performance


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    I acknowledge the Wurundjeri Woi-wurrung and Bunurong peoples of the Kulin nation as the Traditional Owners of the land on which I live, work, and create. I pay respects to their Elders past, present, and emerging. Always was, Always will be Aboriginal Land. 
    WW → Aug ‘24

    Published in Roundtable Readings Edition 2.0: Suburbia

    https://roundtablereadings.blogspot.com/2024/08/roundtable-readings-20-suburbia.html?m=1




    Heading home I become less real.

    My present collapses with my past in head on collision.

    My present, my past, my future kiss and tumble into eachother.



    Heading home I become,

    Fascination of what is to come,

    A becoming without destination

    The not yet

    But will be

    My future body, decomposing, also inside my body

    So my past, my present, and my future are rubbing up against eachother.

    Rubbing into friction, into heat, edging action,

    Engine revving, edging acceleration, burning into the concrete.



    Friction digs a hole and

    A hole is a void, but a void is not empty.

    In this hole is a field of wild activity

    Endless rubbing, touching, edging indeterminacy infinite



    So, in heading home I become less real,

    Or the less real becomes less seen,

    The less seen becomes a tucked behind

    Bushes and holes,

    In holes making homes



    In heading home, the suburbs feel flat, hills regardless.

    I’ve been looking from much too far away it seems.

    Time here travels horizontal, so

    If a hole is below this horizontal,

    This hole negates travel and in its negation becomes a home, hole

    w whole



    In the wwhole, the weight eats away, this letter dips,

    a duo of downward arrows, but mostly we glaze across horizontal

    so, let us make real in the hole and make eachother material

    holding the weight of eachother, we dig further down

    making this hole home

    this hole is the place where I can call myself wwhole



    so, if in heading home I become less real

    let me instead be real in the hole

    in the home I dig for myself with my loves

    and the weight of this realness makes the ground give way and

    my loves, my loves and I make world



    for in this world is a scene of wild activity

    activity in alternative axis,

    activity in this void,

    in this void is an opening, an opening in tucked away,

    in beyond seeing, a realness that beyond vision rubs away at the very matter of ground



    friction into heat into action, acceleration edging concrete, grounds

    to give way, into caving, into wwhole, homes, holes