It is unknown to me where the words come from and how they assemble themselves on the page, how they reorganize their parts and join into meaning. They do as they please.
But since the dislocation of days, words have slowly disappeared and there’s not much to tell you using them. For the past year i’ve kept in touch within short and long distances by raising my arms in silence. In the absence of the day and the night and a lack of vowels under my tongue my sounding voice has become a long and steady whistle that does not call but uses itself to locate its areas of contact.
All that is left and that which has been built remains in the room. There is a room of space for the desire to spin, and to lay and to whistle. To play lines that continue, regardless of outlines, to the underground, to the atmosphere. A room to speak to and speak in mute sounds. For the tracing of blind, bland lines.
The room will be open from the 22nd to the 26th of February from 11:00 to 16:00. - Please, take off your shoes as you come in. - There will be some propositions in the shape of a text that might be useful during your visit, but you can also allow yourself to just arrive slowly into the room.
Every day at 15:00 there will be a chance to do something together in the space, because of COVID measures there will be 5 available spots each day, if you would like to join or have more information, please send a mail to email@example.com stating you preferred date and don’t forget to bring your mask.