Eva Collins : Photographs and Writing

Words

Containment

Clothes contain our bodies, though I'm not so sure about my teenage daughter.
Our skin contains our self-contained organs and veins. My pen contains ink with which I write these words on a sheet of paper, which I'll place in a plastic sleeve, inside my 'Poetry' folder.
I drink tea contained in a cup, eat fruit from a basket, boil soup in a pot, roast beef in a casserole in an oven and place flowers in a vase containing water.
At the station, I insert money into a ticket - machine and step inside a train containing other commuters. In the city, I walk past a busker and drop a coin into his hat, enter my corporate building, take a lift to the office where I'll be contained for the next eight hours. I come home carrying containers with take-away dinners, hang my coat in the wardrobe, drop my keys into a basket and flop onto my bed only to discover a little velvet box containing a silver locket containing my daughter's baby hair.
She found this treasure in her old toy chest and could hardly contain her delight.