Snow drifts past the window behind me. The phone rings and I pick it up. A screen on the wall beside me signals my performance; I'm being monitored.
My days are the ordered pages of a book. So regular, completely linear. One chapter follows another. Regimented and numbered.
I catch sight of the snow as I release a call. It seems so free. It flurries steadily, silently, changing direction here and there. Walking over to the window the street outside is white – covered in a thin, translucent layer.
In the shop, spray-painted book covers catch my eye. They are notebooks, seemingly full of found papers; pages relocated from one place to another. They feel organic; leaves that have drifted together. Bound one-by-one to become ordered.
I know we can’t escape the system that governs our lives. But there is space for difference and for freedom within our constraints. And maybe we need to push at those limits, or allow ourselves to drift a little.
This is an extract from Chris Gibson's text-based installation 'Between the Actual and the Possible' that was installed in the shop from the 19th April to the 3rd May