I saw myself moving – blind I saw myself still – blind I saw myself as rooted earth – stone I saw myself as debris – shit I saw myself pushed through space – water I saw myself shaped by water – blind I saw myself as a sphere – stone I saw myself as dung – shit I saw above me nothing I saw above me nothing I saw…
3 Objects 3 Instruments 3 Tools 3 Trees 3 Movements 3 Moments 3 Mountains 5 Bottles 4 Containers 3 Eyes 2 Fingers 1 Tongue Water Heat Words How to dissolve a mountain?
shyness and shame freezes me. this place that made me feel so strongly connected and wondrous is now an open doorway ahead of me. i am very excited and very afraid. what am i dong? all i know is that i am EXTREMELY sensous and curious. and i long.. i want to stop waiting for the future. i want to engage the senses in a world in which the sense…
Are we condamned, us living in the present, to never experiment autonomy, to never live, not even for a moment, in a planet regulated only by freedom? Are we able to live in the present, do we have other options then being nostalgic about the past or nostalgic about the future? Do we have to wait for the all world to be liberated from political control before at least one…
Closing my eyes and drifting off into the dream of myself I considered carefully my potential body, its posture, flesh and gaze. Sister said: Your poetic self is all about expansion, and yes, I agree, but I also feel it is as much about exclusion. Exclusion of the debris that keeps my heart from reaching its tentacles into the world, to other hearts. Or is it the other way around?…
…trees dancing at the flow of the wind: green. …clouds crashing each other: rain. …a delicate beam of sun: rainbow. …our footsteps staying there: sand. The ocean singing unknown languages from all rivers around the world. You heard about the snow dropping into a lake far in the mountains. I could heard the peasant´s secrets whispered to a little creek. Those happy voices we could not understand were chorus of…
I was there trying to reach you, I will be there trying to reach you, I might try some words, but also some silence, I might try looking at you, I might try closing my eyes when you pass by, But you know I will be trying to reach you, there is nothing else. Secret, everything will be secret. I know you are there, here. You should know I am…
The following is an extract of my application letter for The Sister. Now I have got my second chance. A seed has been planted and is sprouting vibrantly from all of the attention, awareness and consciousness. I am grateful for the potential and possibility of my function as an Evoker and furthermore it seems that this function is simply made for my Poetic Self, which I now with the greatest…
NOT THE THERE OF ITS OWN. YES TO ITS OWN IF ONLY AND YET STILL OVER AND COMING. TO THEM IF THEY COULD SO THAT THE DOOR WAS ALSO. ITS SHIFT WAS ITS PARAPHRASE TO EXIST. IF ONLY AND YET AND SO FAR AS LONG AS THE DOOR COULD HOLD. AND TO ITS MIND IT COULD RECOVER. MOSTLY. AND SO IF THE THING WAS TO BE IN ITS PLACE IT…
Entering Den Frie. In my imagination: Entering Sisters Academys Boarding School #6. Envisioning. Seeing. Inner vision opening. Entering the innermost room at the right. Seeing the octagonal-shaped window. Seeing the wall. Seeing how the room is naturally divided in three. Three stories. Envisioning The Hands transforming the room, making the three stories spring into reality. Using scaffolding, building two new floors in the room. One on top of the other….