CAITLIN CLARKE
Ōtautahi Christchurch / Artist & Librarian
New Zealand has ordered the whole country on a 4 week lockdown. These dreams were experienced just after the second week.
Caitlin Clarke is an artist based in Christchurch, New Zealand. Caitlin works primarily with pottery, fabric and installation. Her work is primarily focused on the critique of capitalist mindset, through regeneration of the conversation about our current ways of living and thought about how connections to the earth, one another and ecologies can grow.
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NOTE: These dreams are all from the same night, different dream episodes. There is a full moon tomorrow.
1. My friends and I are gathering on a wide, grassy, soft spot in a paddock. For a picnic. It felt wide and beautiful. We climb over fences, heading towards a big pine tree. Afterwards, we walk back through the fields, climbing over fences, our dresses caught in the wind. I realise I have left my shoe behind at the picnic spot, and run back to get it. I am anxious it will take too long to get back to my friends. There is a fluffy dog.
2. I am climbing a very rocky mountain with friends. Huge slabs of rock have smashed into each other, there is barely a path. It is impossibly steep and grey. There is a sniper. A friend finds a bloody body part — and knows that it is somebody's colon, where is the rest of the body? Why a colon? Starts raining. Everyone on the mountain is evacuated, we hide in a patch of gorse. Helicopters, guns, trucks, people in wet weather gear.
3. A woman owns the most profitable plot of land in Europe. She gives it up because there was a mysterious plane crash that was unsolved on the land. She doesn't need the money anyway, she is wealthy, billowing blonde hair, wearing silk, confident, quiet and smiling. I lie in a futon with her, curtains billow through an open door. It doesn't feel cheesy and romantic, but dozy and warm. I realise there is a New Zealand flag under the mattress, it's old. That night, we slept with three other people on the futon, it's summer, everything and everyone is soft and sensuous.
4. Note: I wake up, and then fall back to sleep. It is 7am.
We are at a fair, it is a big one held on sloping land. I am sent with a group of people I don't really know to set up a display for the fair. It is early morning, we have a high grassy hill next to us and a grove of pines on the other. The sky is light blue and still a bit pink. No wind. We are instructed to put up a small canvas tent, whilst inside the tent a woman I am with reads out a card that says that the person who owned this tent lived in Gosport, and lived in it during the winter of WWI. I say to the woman that my grandad was born in Gosport, and that the man who lived in the tent must have had to put up with a lot of cold. We went outside the tent and another group had been given the task of building a steep, stacked, triangular structure with big, circular, wooden poles. They are stained black. A chubby teenage boy who is in our group notes that the structure is wobbling. There are still people on the structure putting it together. It slowly starts to fall, then builds with more poles rolling, people jumping, so loud. People are hurt. We just stand beside the grassy hill next to the tent.
(7/4/2020)
1. My friends and I are gathering on a wide, grassy, soft spot in a paddock. For a picnic. It felt wide and beautiful. We climb over fences, heading towards a big pine tree. Afterwards, we walk back through the fields, climbing over fences, our dresses caught in the wind. I realise I have left my shoe behind at the picnic spot, and run back to get it. I am anxious it will take too long to get back to my friends. There is a fluffy dog.
2. I am climbing a very rocky mountain with friends. Huge slabs of rock have smashed into each other, there is barely a path. It is impossibly steep and grey. There is a sniper. A friend finds a bloody body part — and knows that it is somebody's colon, where is the rest of the body? Why a colon? Starts raining. Everyone on the mountain is evacuated, we hide in a patch of gorse. Helicopters, guns, trucks, people in wet weather gear.
3. A woman owns the most profitable plot of land in Europe. She gives it up because there was a mysterious plane crash that was unsolved on the land. She doesn't need the money anyway, she is wealthy, billowing blonde hair, wearing silk, confident, quiet and smiling. I lie in a futon with her, curtains billow through an open door. It doesn't feel cheesy and romantic, but dozy and warm. I realise there is a New Zealand flag under the mattress, it's old. That night, we slept with three other people on the futon, it's summer, everything and everyone is soft and sensuous.
4. Note: I wake up, and then fall back to sleep. It is 7am.
We are at a fair, it is a big one held on sloping land. I am sent with a group of people I don't really know to set up a display for the fair. It is early morning, we have a high grassy hill next to us and a grove of pines on the other. The sky is light blue and still a bit pink. No wind. We are instructed to put up a small canvas tent, whilst inside the tent a woman I am with reads out a card that says that the person who owned this tent lived in Gosport, and lived in it during the winter of WWI. I say to the woman that my grandad was born in Gosport, and that the man who lived in the tent must have had to put up with a lot of cold. We went outside the tent and another group had been given the task of building a steep, stacked, triangular structure with big, circular, wooden poles. They are stained black. A chubby teenage boy who is in our group notes that the structure is wobbling. There are still people on the structure putting it together. It slowly starts to fall, then builds with more poles rolling, people jumping, so loud. People are hurt. We just stand beside the grassy hill next to the tent.
(7/4/2020)