collaborative zine exploring the texture of places, created by FALABLE collective.
30 pages · tap a page to read its text
FALABLE
In the Texture Walk project FALABLE art collective invited communities from across different locations to join them in collecting textures in plasticine and printing them.
The project focused on how a person might view somewhere through its texture-- drawing on haptic spatial thinking. Acting as nodes, collectively synthesising information from our surroundings.
This zine brings together photographs and printed textures from the texture walk workshops in Oxford, Southampton, Reading and Buckingham. As well as creative writing pieces written by some of the members of FALABLE.
Key Terms:
Haptic Spatial Thinking - is the cognitive ability to perceive, process, and mentally manipulate spatial information using active touch
(skin sensation) and proprioception (body awareness). It is the foundation for our understanding of 3D forms, scale, and object orientation in the absence of sight.
Nodes In cognitive science, represent fundamental units of information (like concepts, words, or memories) that are interconnected by links to form vast networks. Cognitive processes (such as memory retrieval, language processing, and problem-solving) occur when these nodes are activated and interact across the network.
Some textures are clear, smooth, modern - They provide us with a distinct vision of memory.
Some textures are fuzzy, old, fractured -
They provide us with a tainted vision of a memory.
We access our memory through embracing texture.
Remembering through our eyes and our hands.
Textures are deeply layered, overlapping material and emotionally through memory
There are layers in the texture of S
In each tiny grain of sand, in volcanic material of stone and we remember these textures.
each sedimentary rock, soil or d in each woven sheet of fabric
FADING AWAY IN LAYERS
There are layers in building the modern world over what was previously in its place.
The cycle of overlapping the new over the old.
There are layers in the new memories overlapping a person's old memories as they fade away again and again.
Our memory is fading away in layers.
PRIVATE DRIVEWAY
DO NOT OBSTRUCT IN CONSTANT USE THANK YOU
THE TEXTURE OF A PLACE texture: characteristics of a surface place: location (with purpose or function)
surface function warm outer zone of the city with dense foliage and weeds breaking through cracks. blossom in the spring like white bread.
walking down the road, to the bus stop where actual bread moulds up on the roof of the bus shelter, and like beaded fabric or more blossom, it has purple blooms with green leaves and sap white centres.
web of concrete cracks: grainy channel in a monolith, intermixture of broken and solid stone.
fibre of the road, with a ravine in the pavement: dry, hard, rough patched, and with sun and shade splitting up the surface into more nooks
thick line drawn by double yellows: calcified, dense and poured home strip there is the word 'slow' written on the road long ago in thick white letters which have degraded years and now mostly form the command some of the direction lines are gone so you don't know where you're going, or which lane you're it's the kind of place where people shout 'left' at you on leafy cycle paths grass: fine smooth and interwoven blades. leaves with hard edges. moss the consistency of fluff. wire fence: knit texture softened by nettles when a half-dried puddle catches the light: smooth cool bright circle, evaporating tide line when the sun goes down the sky is half dark against primrose yellow street lights at regular queueing intervals shiny bumpers sit in the driveways of degenerating houses there is the gleam of polished metal and the gleam of misty windows on the left side of the bridge on a saturday morning, when it is sunny, there are the city rowe the right hand side are lined by college boat houses, and these are bright like candy
over e in rs.
Canon
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WASTE ONLY NOT
Rubble piles, old bricks, cracks in concrete hot drain covers on the backs of your legs
Rope swings that miraculously appear as fast as they disappear
The bus stop defaced with a compass
Dented doors where full armed people regularly kick them open.
Worn dips on the edges of steps
Great arks burnished into storage containers from branches in the wind
Black strikes across gym floors from shoes
Brass rails patinated from salty hands.
Wood chips embedded in the sole of your shoe and your knees
The concentric circles in a log, left imprinted in your thighs from sitting too long.
Freya Hems
Nostalgia through Texture
Contributors: Joey Birch, Freya Hems
, Lenny Hunt, Paula Hunt, Gabi Kolasinsea, Essy Leeming, Abigail Wallace, Brontè Wyse