Do you remember? Can you? Maybe it was just a moment. Maybe it was many. Sweaty bodies packed with instruments, clowns and wonder dust. Lose yourself in the stimuli. Tap into the harmonic. Heartmonic. Harmanic. Heartmanic. Which one is it again? Leopard print pants. Drawing with lipstick all over your…

”We donate our flesh to the idea” the Sister says. This sentence keeps rummaging inside me. Making my stomage crumple together. It seems so definitely to donate our flesh, my flesh to the idea. But then I tell myself that it is not just an idea. It is a hope,…