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08/12/09
		Written retroactively. We forgot. The everyday left no room for remembering.
04/12/09
		We have foraged for nestings for our extended brood. We have settled in place. A new home, a new house. Fledglings, but signatory fledglings.
03/12/09
		Passing Point West Hill Funicular Railway, Hastings 03/12/09 Positioned individually in adjacent carriages for the duration of the railway's working day: first in, last out. The day's passengers dictated the lift's up and downs. At its pulleyed passing point we could wave in brief alignment. -- -- A performance regarding movement and body action encased within larger moving parts; our responsibility over personal actions diminished in placing ourselves in part of a larger, pre-existing, public mechanical action. Like an elasticised "Rope Piece", a constant togetherness in separateness. In constant rise and fall, moving from the light at either end of the tunnel towards a darker passing point. A duelling solitude; the usefulness of each arrival removed in observation of door open and close. Locked in at top and bottom, with no intention of escape. A forced upon, this public display of affection an add on in lift operator's working day. Tea was offered along with a pitying warm, an incredulousness at voluntary huddled chill. The dynamic was an oddity; uncomfortably accepting with nervous giggle and cobbled excuse and explanation as to our repeat presence. A relentless reattach de-attach in contact with redundant jailer manning the hill top and sea level. Our passings, glimpses or notes held up were controlled and supervised by the staff. Initially it was assumed that it was the public and passengers that would receive full power over our day: a season ticket regularity and a need to be hill from town impacting our cables winds. However, it became apparent that we may ride alone, neither carriage accompanied by transitory companion, merely a tea cup's requesting or responding fill as company. In the midst of other's sometimes inanimate altitude commute, we sat in lift's re-appropriation. A day held multiplicity. Our paired missing suffered stronger for its public sanctioned, passing tease. Five hours spent apart is less than a working day; the 9-5 office away a usual ease, but here, difficulty lay in the inevitability of our crossed paths. We sat, intrinsically linked in spyed digital zoom, yet kept at a constant, self-enforced distance.
02/12/09
		We undertook a larger scale walking. We set ourselves up opposite ends of the hill's aerial rhombus. Both beginning to walk clockwise, we kept to a steady, self directed pace until one naturally drew level with other. In this particular locale, 25 minutes and 4 seconds elapsed before crossover. Neither of us embraced any possibility that she would appear behind or he in front. The sense of followed and follower was pre-reserved and unwavering. Gender roles accepted, he would approach due to a faster incline and she would anticipate the pounce. The nature of the hill's peaks and troughs meant neither party was visible to one another until an entire quadrant had been made up. In chase, two and a half laps passed before a white bobble hat rose into view though the ensuing rain seemed to skew results, forcing a powered step over average stroll. For the chased, there was an audible nearing cough at the close of the third lap, a trainer scrape and shuffle approaching the middle of the fourth cycle. Marked on the map are our adjacent starting points and our eventual crossover.
30/11/09
		We have discussed at length the difficulty in making a poem that we are happy to be assigned as dually authored. These experiments, writing a letter each without verbal communication are one, reasonably crowbarred solution. These images appear as a proof of concept - work neither finished or started. The image on the right was a slower, more considered attempt to project a word, doing our best to steer output in a certain direction by 'boxing' each other in with careful vowel and consonant selection.
25/11/09
		A helping, sharing, autonomy.
21/11/09
		We are continuing to explore crossover. We set ourselves up at either end of a cyclical path. Both beginning to walk clockwise, we kept to a steady, self directed pace until one naturally drew level with other. In this particular locale, 8 minutes and 34 seconds elapsed before crossover. Our experiences were markably different; the pursuer struggling to stay at a constant pace behind partner despite drawing noticeably closer and the pursued, keeping head face forward, blind in anticipation. There is a trust for the leader that the follower will catch up. Expectant but tempered, the glimpses caught in peripheral when walking on parallel straights the only visual clue as to distance. At times, public dictated our speed. We are working amongst everyday life. Marked on the map are our adjacent starting points.
15/11/09
		The Spitting Piece In The Flesh Festival Studio, Barbican Theatre, Plymouth 15/11/09 2 stools set parted by a space for knees and cup, a 45 minute duration. An attempt to fill a glass with spit on spit. -- A bodily fluid exchange. A balancing act, a tension. A coarse action turned tender share. Intimate and sexual, this is a working together; to fill salivary, mouths apart, a unifying goal. Made public, staged centre to allow voyeur view. Knees pressed tight together, a silent vigil and take turn. Time is measured in partner's spit. A competition to spit better, to spit more. To spit is to complete task in hand; post-spit, a diminished responsibility. A put upon, a force upon - pass the dribbling buck then short relief in transferred pressure. In slowing one's own build up and fill up, one imparts kindness to partner, time given and spotlight held off and away. Head to head, hand pat hand yet constantly righting one another like bicycle wobble. A leaning partnered correction, rubatto rhythm dragged in and out of synch. An extended pause; vinegar imagined; an audible swilling worry. A co-dependant, veiled 'I'll wait for you'. Spitting is not hard to do. Hindered after 45 by a time-keeping theatrical dim, scheduled end implies a love at first sight then button off. A 45 minute sex session; a 45 minute love affair; a 45 minute chore. "My two spits must have yours to part."
14/11/09
		This week has been somewhat occupied with preparation for our performance at the closing night of Plymouth's In The Flesh festival at the Barbican Theatre, curated by Mark Greenwood. We will be performing a durational, action-based piece. Work is scheduled from 7.00 onwards. For more information please visit the BARBICAN THEATRE or phone (01742) 267131.
13/11/09
		We are working visually to represent our two years together.
08/11/09
		We watched and reacted to the same video separately. In synchronicity, side by side, we can observe differences in our appreciation and response through physical gesticulation usually unseen.
07/11/09
		We fell into an argument born out of the impossibility of being able to know what one another was truly thinking. After reconcilliation we began to think about what this personal disagreement 'meant' in regards to us attempting to function as a single artistic entity. We talked about the act of second-guessing and how this could be illustrated external to those active in participation. The let down felt when projecting an idea in one's head regarding a partner's potential action then met with something different is an internal manifestation of this barrier to hive-mind. We wanted to explore how to illustrate this frustrating 'item in closed palm'. The act of 'finding' each other in an unknown town goes someway in making physical this feeling. We can anticipate the place that a partner may be using facts known of their interests, likes and dislikes, but the limitations of working within a linear, developed centre makes the eventual return too inevitable to really show much more than an exercise in practice. Similarly, to arrive in a countryside with the same meeting intention would fail on grounds that with no pre-existing knowledge we could make no educated guesses as to another's derive and would be unlikely to find one another cross country in the absence of civilised, commercial markers. We began to think of Football's Penalty Shootouts: in visual essence, little more than a snap decision made by kicker as to chosen direction, and a goalkeeper's diving choice. However, under the projected bravado are calculated, reasoned decisions made through careful research into past form, psychological bearing, pressure and a myriad of factors on both sides. Here is true second guessing.
05/11/09
		Continuing waving, we made the most of our time in the capital. Setting off with a kiss at the centre-point of Westminster bridge, we walked one with white hat, one with cerise scarf on opposite sides of the Thames 'til meeting again at the centre-point of Tower Bridge, waving to pin point one another amidst joggers, tourists and business. What started almost romantically with a continued excited wave at each return from boat or bridge obscurity, descended into a panicked anger, each other lost after inland juts and waving then seldom caught by both parties in simultaneousness. When re-located on final stretch, there was both palpable relief and visible over-water frustration. On occasion both parties waved, though as pink scarf became lost in crowd while white hat remained ever-present, only half our coupling caught the intended flailing motion. Here, a magnification of the barrier that will always exist between two people made action: a continued miscommunication. Marked on our map are our start and end points. Our end. North of the river meets South of the river.
03/11/09
		In recording our second audio, the arduous task of washing our uncooperative hound, we have dropped 'Food' from our previous collective title in favour of the simpler and further encompassing collective 'Audios'. We realise that all domestic events have the potential to be recognised as 'performance', allowing the act of recording to turn a simple happening into something larger via the decision to document and exhibit. You can grab the audio directly from HERE or subscribe to the iTunes podcast (of which we are still ironing kinks) HERE.
02/11/09
		We are exploring vantage points, line of sight and crossover. We arranged to situate ourselves on opposite hills, one with and one without dog. The green beneath our feet framed Hastings as a valley in chasm between the two of us. We stood staring at a point 1km away until partner walked into colour-coded view, waving. On recognising one another, we traversed the steps down into town, swapped the lead from one pair of hands to another and made our way to our partner's former space. Here we waited to wave again, and then on contact made our way back home. Marked on our map are our start points, and the point of relay baton crossover.
31/10/09
		We have taken Twitter, the current forefront of self-important social networking, and attempted to re-approriate it. We are exploring further our early ideas of 'hive mind' - here, we speak for one another without communication, expressing our partners assumed feelings in our own words as and when we see necessary, though never with negotiation, as both a test of spontaneous understanding, and as an attempted removal of the intrinsic self-importance that a site such as Twitter promotes. Track us HERE (C speaks for H) and HERE (H speaks for C).
26/10/09
		One departs 11.12. Other departs 11.25. Pair re-united at 12.51. A re-try of finding in town part-unknown. A swap of finder and found and High street bump into. Continuing to experience waiting and finding. A rare separation occupied only with a concentration of rejoining. -- Today our belts began counting our steps - making this thinky, walky labour a tangible display. Today white pedometer suggests that she has travelled further, red buckle a chunk behind. Compared, this calculation announces a labour deficit of 2,154 steps between partners. -- This evening we recorded our first 'Food Audio'. This unedited audio recording of food preparation and cooking attempts to highlight and foreground the inherent performativity of couplehood, displayed almost daily by countless pairs through mealtime conversation and collaboration. It is accessible HERE with iTunes integration and subscription following shortly for future recordings.
20/10/09
		We want to be busy. We have planned, pencilled and accounted for business. Sadly, right now, illness has come to say hello and put down its own project proposal. For a number of days now, H has been suffering a compound of flu-alike symptoms while C steps in fear of coughing or sneezing after a Laurel and Hardy beating, rib breaking fall. Our timetable for the week commencing the 19th was meant to open itself up more to creation, research and experimentation after week one warmed us out of British summertime slumber, however, at current, we have struggled to hit our intended momentum. Hopefully within a few days of endless Hot Squash, Basalm Snotters and John Lasseter we'll reach a turning point which leaves unfettered illness at the proverbial crossroads and Making Pair as a project can power forwards.
15/10/09
		One departs 10.47. Other departs 11.35. Pair re-united at 12.49. Exploring a relatively unknown town separately and unmapped was an experiment in the strength of understanding of one another's natural derive. Based on a report heard years previous on Radio 4's Home Truths regarding a couple who holiday separately in the same european cities, but with the hope of paths crossing, our trip was an exercise in a pairing's urban plotting, personal visual signposting and tactical second guessing. A partner hunt down played out over boots, videogames and charity shops.
12/10/09
		We boarded a train. Ashford station in normality is in our out of focus; a get through and liminal forced delay between homes. Leaving the constipation of a household unchanged by 'this is day one', an attempt at starting began. Travelling and a feigned waiting in a place of new found importance, we tried for a laxative effect. We have a list of things that we think now: things to consider, things to observe, things to action. Interaction is our key studio practice, and acknowledging that for some the studio is the system for working, we are striving to push our own practice forward.
		MAKING PAIR
		A collaborative making, writing, collecting, doing. Paired as the context. This is the enquiry hub and daily constant; a record of output for ten weeks and after. 12/10/09 marks the start of our makes.
makingpair@googlemail.com