ART its cold living outside – dyslexia. It’s difficult not to understand – dyspraxia. It’s painful not to be understood. It’s scary to be confused. Inside my head is not like outside my head. My thoughts are mine, the theatre of my dreams. But I have a visual language. I can communicate without words, letters or numbers. I can have pride, worth, dreams. Jacob Rock 2002 written shortly after being diagnosed with dyslexia/dyspraxia aged 41. I make art from the things I collect in the street - my ritual objects, from these I create animal familiars, spray stencil painted friezes and projections onto walls