UNDISCLOSED #10 - 26th October 2008

It is about 7am and I am walking up a stretch of road in the country.
I am dressed in black.
I pick up a scattering of glass shards.
I pick up a bottle top.
I pick up a white plastic lid.
I pick up a yellow top.
I am walking along this road and in a bag by my side I have trinkets that I keep finding on my way.
I pick up a rusty screw.
I pick up a piece of rubber, old and brittle.
I pick up a piece of cardboard from some sort of packaging.
I pick up a feather.
I pick up a yellow flower.
I pick up a water damaged and sun dried soft porn mag.
A car goes by and the wind whips me in its wake.
It is quiet, not many people moving yet on the road.
A cockatoo squawks, rosellas are chattering.
In the distance I hear the caw of a crow and now another and another.
There is a pleasant expectancy hanging in the air.
I pick up a purple shard of some plastic.
I pick up an old bleached bone, maybe from a bird.
I pick up a small silver cylinder.
I pick up red reflector shards.
I pick up a weathered cigarette butt.
I pick up a mars bar wrapper.
I pick up a broken pair of sunglasses.
I pick up a deteriorated thong.
I pick up a piece of black tube.
I pick up a mangled sweater of some sort, maybe once a forest green.
I pick up a cracked pen.
I pick up a squashed can of coke.
I have walked about 3 kms and my trinket bag is becoming laden.
I am at a siding in the road that is clear and has some space, somewhere a car can pull off the road if it needs to.
A cow bellows in the distance.
I am placing the trinkets down. I place them to start to form letters.
I have formed three letters they are about 50cm high.
I am forming links between the objects.
I am putting some colours together.
I am putting clothes and shoes and accessories together.
I am putting rocks and bones and flowers together.
I am putting consumption rubbish together.
I am putting parts together.
I am putting glass together.
I am putting it together.
I have finished.
I look down at my two words formed from the detritus and the flora of the road.
It is the story of the road.
“Remember this”
I look back towards where I came from and go.