A Breath Holds Itself (Together), 2024
birdsong and deep breathing
gentle inhale
and exhale
soft inhale
*kiss*
fumble rustle
dry leaves flame-crackle and a deep inhale
*kiss*
a heavy breath falls away
birds continue chirping
fingers whisper dry twinkle
a soft, noiseless breathing
*kiss*
breath falls from the mouth, wide
tinker crinkle
deep inhale
*soft kiss*
air leaves a breath in the throat
birdsong and a pale inhale
*kiss*
an exhale surrenders
quiet, loose rustle and a deep inhale
*soft kiss*
heavy exhale
a heavy exhale
faint rustle, reaching and slow inhale
*kiss*
a breath, falling
birdsong continues, children play in the distance
a dry rustle-crunch fiddling and a gentle inhale
*kiss*
breath billows, a loud cloud
a slow inhale pulls
*kiss*
a close exhale
birds cooing
a breath falls gently
an outdoor quiet as children distantly chatter
a wood pigeon coos in rhythmic summertime
the chatter of birds and tumble of children outdoors
*peck*
soft exhale
drawing a colourless breath
*kiss*
a mouth releases ribcage
glad breathing, relaxed and easy
the gentlest flicker
*soft kiss*
soft exhale
deep inhale
*lips kiss*
an un-silent breath inhales
*kiss-peck*
deep inhale
*peck*
small breath
birdsong and children’s chatter
deep inhale
a heavy sigh
deep inhale
a soft sigh
birds continue chirping
breath falls in and out, the body a rhythm of untroubled drag on the world
birds continue in chirrup
Audio of text
About the work
A Breath Holds Itself (Together)
Bella Milroy, July 2024
Filmed by J. Sargeant
Edited by Leonie Rousham
Filmed in the artist’s home and at their studio-allotment rose garden
This work attempts to use the fragmentation found in sickness as a way of extending the experience of place; garden, home, bed, body. Here, the petals of a rose emerge in the shape of a dog’s silken fur, and the tenderness of being held by one’s own pillow takes the form of falling headfirst into a rose garden in July. Instead of stand-ins or substitutes, it is the sick-intimacy with the things that surround us (both animate and inanimate) that allows for them to take on equivalency with one another. If a rose can be a dog can be a pillow can be a garden can be a breath, how else might the boundaries of our bodies muddy, soften and tangle?
Accompanying this film is a poetry-based transcription of the ambient sounds of a body in a garden. Using the methodology of image description and closed caption writing (a disability justice approach to art-writing), sound is enhanced via an embodied translation of breath, scent and landscape.
Building on the body of work created throughout this residency period, exploring core principles of my current practice – ungardening, process, sick-intimacy and a re-embodied disembodiment – this work moves to imagine the sick body as a place beyond singular location. Forever in pursuit of a sense of vastness within the cramped, I am interested in how sickness can be experienced as the medium through which I reach out and touch the world around me; an expansion of place as well as the constriction of it. These are the tools that allow me to find a presence with my garden. It is a garden that is made for my absence, and my absence is something that holds more than a missing body.
Special thanks to the Vital Capacities team for making this residency and the creation of this work such a nourishing and accessible creative experience. In making this film, I had fantastic editorial support from Leonie Rousham which was facilitated by Vital Capacities. This support enabled me to make in ways I haven’t done before, and I feel fortunate to have had this opportunity to invest in my practice in such a generative and enjoyable way.