My Container:

Having read the “embodied memory” element of paradigm of Utzon, I found myself considering my early childhood memories. One particularly prominent memory was that of waiting for my father to come home after a week away at work. Myself and my brother (at about the ages of 2 and 4) used to sit with our noses on the living room windows transfixed awaiting the headlights coming up the drive. This was exciting, thrilling and there was a sense of anticipation.

Within my container I wanted to get the user to engage with some of these feelings. I created a window with an outline of a person on it. However under further investigation this outline was actually a poem entitled “The family” by Mary Oliver. The container was placed upon a plinth that made the user bend down a height more befitting a child.

The Family by Mary Oliver

The dark things of the wood
Are coming from their caves,
Flexing muscle.

They browse the orchard,
Nibble the sea of grasses
Around our yellow rooms,

Scarcely looking in
To see what we are doing
And if they still know us.

We hear them, or think we do:
The muzzle lapping moonlight,
The tooth in the apple.

Put another log on the fire;
Mozart, again, on the turntable,
Still there is a sorrow

With us in the room.
We remember the cave.
In our dreams we go back

Or they come to visit.
They also like music.
We eat leaves together.

They are our brothers.
They are the family
We have run away from.