Wormwood: Car Giant

It’s a Sunday, a rainy afternoon in November. Rather than a Sunday roast, Steve and I opt for roaming the liminal landscapes of Willesden Junction, our old trusted friend. It’s unpretentious spirit offers us great sense of solitude, with no pressure to know what we want, be goal oriented, be professional. Here we are, free.

It’s a year 2019 already, and back in the Car Giant’s territories, Steve and I have been fortunate to discover the entrance into the otherworldly Giant’s Diner. What joy! Steve appears ecstatic as he rushes into the doorway!

I follow him eagerly up the glowing staircase, a ship about to be launched into space. Soon enough, having entered what could be a new Punchdrunk set, I expect alternative realities behind every door. The universe here is plastic, blue, resembling the anonymous non-places of ferries, airports and train stations. Where are we sailing off to?

Following a conversation and a coffee, planning the structure of the upcoming film, the exciting physical interventions we want to make, we finally leave the utopian Diner behind.

Braving the rain, we go to explore the Car Giant’s interiors…

Sheltered within its expansive walls, are rows and rows of quiet four wheeled machines, eagerly awaiting their new owner. But we have little interest in them. Instead, we follow the architecture and soon my attention is caught by an amplified sound of running water, passing through one of the pipes. This could be a sound installation!