SQ Swansula Quartz 2099

A fictional time capsule encasing a digital collection of artworks left in Swansula by the future community, the Lunasaws.

Digital Flint, 2020

SQ Swansula Quartz 2099, a collection of artworks within a digital time capsule. Curated online at swansula.site

Lunasaw Message, 2020
Digital video, infared trigger camera

Sanasalu you,

May you find this in many a moon,
By washing in Swansula’s water.

That is where our wild spirit is home, a part of which here, is gifted.

We digitised our voice, our breath, to fossilise our minds.
Lines drawn under stars, by river in hide

With our hearts beating fruit ripened blood.

A painting by reed on new moon.

When feraled in circle, we are a coven at dance in the rush,
With lungs open wide, breasts stroked by tide,
Singing and dreaming in kin.

Words from Swansula in pain, expressed through our unwashed brains.

Ears opened to every whisper carried on wind,
We uncoded the croaks from the ravens that spoke in their name.

Like drawing, so much is just vision.
Technology we endeavoured to eco-fy,
Materials grown with their body in mind

But as synthetics, the surrogates we dreamt so dear were a burden
that no longer Earth can bare.
Organic, they perish with us.

The tools and wares we left behind for wilder times, to rust.

To heal Swansula, we have to rewire our minds, and we have to rewild our hearts.

The past is scarred like ours, land filled, belly gauged and ripped away by men
who quarried till no longer fertile matter slept.

What surfaced was their deep past.

Prehistoric bones picked out by mining hands
Who clawed at every ancient root hugging tight in the chalk.

That is why in hand by flame we swore -
To conserve.

Till waters are clean enough for all to swim,
To lay their eggs within.

Till the plastic layered in so deep is sucked out by our love
And nature long steered from here moves in again.

Then, as guardians with all our heart,

Sink into the wild.

TS To Swansula 2092, 2022.
5.52m Audio track.
Composed and Produced by Shiv Pattni. 
Vocal by Grace Emily Manning and Shiv Pattni

For you, my almighty reverence
Tor you, you feed me my life.

When I chew and digest your matters,
In the wall of my gut
I’m your wife.

But you can’t walk with your hands
‘Round my chest.

And when I bathe you can’t hold,
On to my breast.

With every sorrow I face,
I swim in your grace
But the fear of your tide holds me back.

Today, I distilled black berries
And I stained out a blotch of my past.

‘Cause the pain of feeling no safety,
I a pain I don’t know I can last.

Sometimes I wish,
I wish I were cyborg.

Instead of nerves, I ran wires to my feet.
Every memory of Mum
Every reverie of Dad,
I’d reprogramme their comfort I seek.

When we moved into the shadow lands
To rewild, regrow and restore.

Every sorrow we face
We swim in your grace,
But our burden I cannot ignore.

In my womb is the ghost a child,
Not conceived, nor grew, never born.

For the demands they could make,
May aid you to break.
And as feral they’d struggle forlorn.

With everyday your system grows wilder.
Soon one dark, I will biodegrade,

As I return to my home
And you root through my bone,

As we bind, I’m no longer

SROES Swansula Remote Odona Eye Surveillance 2057. 2020
1.26 m.
After Effects, Live Action, Infrared Trigger Camera,
Stop-Motion Animation

A voyeuristic capture of a symbiotic relationship between rewilding Eco-Maton Poto and human Lunasaw within the context of a conservation recording taken on an infared camera, speculatively captured by Swansula’s Odona Eye, a dragonfly drone.

From Swansula 2028, 2020
Live action, stop-motion, After Effects

Sound Design composed and produced by Shiv Pattni
Synthesizer by Ryan Crooks. Vocal by Alice Aires.
Additional Vocals by Rita Pattni, Varsana Pattni

I am desperate to reach out my roots.
I am sorry, I have born you no fruit.
I am flooded, yet my heart has drained.
I am grateful, for you I can sail.

Now whisper to the buds at dawn,
To spring for all souls that are sore.

Who whimper for my wheezing chest,
Who endure, to heal mothers crest.

Ruminate as my satellite renews,
As you swim through my still, sodden blue.

The mud from your toenails prove,
You are ointment to my every bruise.

Fall back.
My wind is the arms that you need.

Look up,
Galaxies full of hands that you seek.

How long will this sickness take hold.
How long till it spreads to my soul?

Lunasaw are my spirit, I know.
All will fall till my body regrows.

As you return to my heart,
Your flesh resurrects as a star.
When our bodies ferment, we restart,
‘Till the shift in the mind of all parts.

In time when I am stronger to speak,
I will come to you, look out for me.

In my wildest of forms I shall be,
Watch the tide till no longer you see.