some-no-where #2

Studies about time and perhaps light. (April, 2023) I’m developing images of what was already seen and captured, unseen for a second, then recaptured in a new form of light. This possible never-ending process of making images depends solely on things I am looking after. (Still not a clue on what are them.) Whatever I’m working on, can only be justified as being my own process to reach some other thoughts and reasons. So I feel in this mid-air moment where the images do not come out fully developed, nor they do not exist yet, because they do since the moment I archived them for later in life. They’re not blooming yet, nor anymore.

some-no-where

Studies about time and perhaps light. (March, 2024) Among self-founded works, these studies emerge out of some-no-where. Sometimes I wish someone would explain to me what the hell I’m working on. Then I keep working on it until I get bored or distracted by something else. Whenever the readings that follow these studies lead me through the same path, a kind of grounded work seems to emerge, but they are mainly a way of keeping my mind distracted from what I have had already set out to do, years before, which is why I call them studies or essays. Nothing new, I guess, for most of us who seem to be doing something to prove ourselves in this ticking clock. But don’t take this lightly, I can never do that anyway, as these images seem to come from somewhere where I didn’t want to be revealed and yet I obey and do them.

some thing new

^{V. in the bathtub, 2013}

What are you fighting for? – Tindersticks

notas: um tremor

dance, dec.20

Uma pequena, desperta, olha os pais de dentro do carrinho empurrado e experimenta a voz em diferentes melodias durante o passeio pela calçada, calçada incerta que lhe faz experimentar a trepidação dos sons. Esse trémulo da voz na calçada que, pela surpresa, pela admiração do novo, provoca a vontade da melodia, o experimento do trémulo.
O primeiro tremor é talvez esse do embalo, primeiro o dos braços da mãe, depois o do carrinho, depois talvez memória.
No caminho é o atrito, o socalco, o percalço que causa a trepidação, o trémulo. E nós, fascinados por esse tremer, experimentamo-lo com admiração, fruímos do embalo irregular. Descobrimos um primeiro fascínio que talvez seja igual de todas as vezes, um tremor.
Lembrou-me depois o frio do corpo na noite, mesmo na noite menos fria, o corpo decide tremer, outra vez o tremor, sempre novo.
um tremor sem nome

c’est encore l’été

Dans de nombreux bras
De nombreuses fleurs
J’ai vu par les yeux, mes sœurs
Là-bas que vois-tu venir dans l’ombre?
Aujourd’hui ton corps et demain le monde
Dans de nombreuses voix
De nombreux cœurs
J’ai vu sur la ville mes sœurs
J’ai lu l’avenir du monde dans ton regard
J’te jure, parle-moi du paysage 🎵

^{holding, August 2013}