Broken Windows By Richard O'Sullivan Revised Notes 9/01/10 2010, 5:14m, DV, Stereo, Colour, Single-Channel. Broken Windows consists of the last footage shot with a digital camcorder: these are the dying gasps of the camera. On one level, the piece might serve as a de-mystification of the digital image; the degradation of the footage broadly implies the processes by which the real world is interpreted as video. Video's constitution of the world as image is laid bare, and it is disconcerting to see the torturous decay of the material as the camera fights to maintain its simulation of the world. On another level, however, the piece implies the impossible mystery of most technology for most viewers. The functioning of the camera, evident in the image only when it fails as here, is something which most of us can't - or don't want to - understand. We comprehend technology so little, that we must engage with it on a purely aesthetic level as a source of magic or wonder.

Brompton Cemetery November 2003, a place for breif encounters. Allan Warren takes us on a tour though crowded cruising lanes and popular bushes.

The sky is nice. / I negotiate / with its gauzy clouds on blue / for an immediate bus. / Remarkable that years / of my bad temper at / missed buses ( for example ) / is absorbed by these streets / and has no effect / on the blamelessness of the blue sky / or its little wings of cloud. The framing of the image, clouds in a blue sky, changes with the loudness of the soundtrack, a composition made entirely of elements from the spoken poem.

The sky is nice. / I negotiate / with its gauzy clouds on blue / for an immediate bus. / Remarkable that years / of my bad temper at / missed buses ( for example ) / is absorbed by these streets / and has no effect / on the blamelessness of the blue sky / or its little wings of cloud. The framing of the image, clouds in a blue sky, changes with the loudness of the soundtrack, a composition made entirely of elements from the spoken poem.