It appeared in a heartbeat, spontaneously blocking my near perfect sight. In that ‘moment’ I was reading a book, turned a page, and the print was gone.

The title of this work is borrowed from a favourite, iconic tune. Its musical composition mirrors the effects of that life-altering ‘moment’, which caused permanent physical damage, and psychological impact; injury and frustration which I attempt to capture in this image. The title lyric is ironic. I recall a time when my creatively active brain could not switch off, and I would be lying awake with this hypnotic track penetrating through headphones to the core of my consciousness. Now, since ‘it’ happened, I rarely struggle to sleep. Sleep is my respite; my only relief and release from an otherwise constant state of visual disturbance, disorientation, and exhaustion. Eight minutes, forty two seconds of pulsating tempo, repetitive rhythmic phrasing, and pizzicato riff, now melodically encapsulates a daily eyes-open-to-eyes-shut experience.

This work presents the outcome of my heartbeat moment - a mess of a thing invisible to the outside world. It lives in my right eye, moving with my eyeball, interrupting clear sight. The collapsed and detached jelly-like substance appears as an intricate and dynamic cobweb of dark matter, activated by light and motion. In brightness I see the debris forming a cosmos of planets and stars; in dull light it appears like an ultrasound scan of new human life – the densest floaters swimming around each other, connected by corkscrew cords, appearing as embryos entwined. This clarity of internal view allows me to attempt a flat representation of the multidimensional debilitating ‘stuff’ that, if external, would seem mesmerising and awesome.