Tomorrow I Will start the inhabitation of White light Black Whole. Jeg glæder mig. When Im not working in the hospital, my creativity is a wake around the preperations and thoughts for the stay. It makes me feel alive and present. I make kitchenstuff and listen to talks between Birgit Bundensen og Gry Worre Hallberg and learn more about the meeting between the to worlds – the art and health system, which is of great interest for my own profession as a SOSU-worker in the hospitalworld. I would like to bring my poetic-self in to my work, but how ?

Im writing: the healtcare system of a sensual socity. Det poetiske selv og ny mental økologi. Det poetiske selv som noget i boende der pakkes ud. At få det poetiske selv til at vokse, fødes frem der gør at du møder verden på en anden måde.  (Jeg ser mig selv brodere i hospitalets sengetøj)

1: at finde det poetiske selv

2: eksternalisering, et objekt der symbolisere en indre verden

3: du møder omverden med dette

at bebo det sanselige samfund formet af et paradigmeskifte: den rationelle, kognitive erkendelse er sat højere end den sanselige og poetiske….

at pakke det iboende poetiske selv ud

at pakke det poetiske selv ud

Im listning to Poetic self exercis, twice. The two meditations are very different but my element is the same – Water. My totem is the same, it is a little linnedbag with “ regnbueærter”. I did buy Them at my favorite place, a place where I Connect with my inner world. Once I Saw a rainbow in this area- a full rainbow.

Jeg går i genbrugsbutikker på Amagerbrogade: finder en skjorte med hulmønster som jeg river til hvide strimler, som skal brugs for øjnene. Jeg vender vrangen ud af tasker og tøj for at skjule synlige brands. Jeg må have en god rygsæk til den 3 km lange gåtur. Hvor kan jeg købe sort akrylmaling til tekstil? Jeg må male Northface logoet over.

Sorry I forget to Write in english…

I wounder, Can I bring a text to scare? Maybe I Will bring a copy of the first chapter, and keep it to my self….chapter 1 of Solvej Balles book – “on the calculation of volume”. To me it seems to echoes the space of inhabitation in Sistershope…..Tara Selter has slippes out of time. She no longer expects to wake up to the nineteenth of November, and she no longer remembers the seventeenth of november as if it were Yesterday.

She Whites:

#121

“There is someone in the house. Heard as he moves around the room upstairs. When he g’ets out of bed or When he goes Down the Stars and into the kitchen. Theres the gus of water through the pipes When he fill the kettle. The sounds of metal on metal When he sets the kettle on the store and very flint click When he turns on the gas. Then there is a pause until the water comes to boil…….”

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