I understand. I understand why most people regard their dreams as of little importance. They are too light for them, and most people identify the serious with what has weight. Tears are serious; one can collect them in a jar. But a dream, like a smile, is pure air. Dreams, like smiles, fade quickly. But what if they dissolve their face and smiles remain?
Serie 3: sound migration/ amplification/ distortion
The idea was to spend 4 min per object and create 3 series of 10 sculptures that tell a story with a continuous and spontaneous thread. It does not leave time for thinking, you have to create order within your own chaos as said Pierre Soulages: “ we are always being stalked by two things that are equally dangerous : order and disorder. Order can be sterile. Disorder productive. And vis versa. I like works which allow me to construct myself. And which construct me. Rilke said something I admire:”it submerges us. We organize it. But it falls to pieces. We organize it again and we ourselves fall to pieces”. “
You carry it until you merge Perspective from massive surfaces
But what do you hope for, in the end? May the earth be reborn in spring? May the sea and rivers become fishy again? What more manna falls from heaven for idiots like you?
“Do not allow yourself to be imprisoned by any affection. Keep your solitude. The day, if it ever comes, when you are given true affection, there will be no opposition between interior solitude and friendship, quite the reverse. It is even by this infallible sigh that you will recognize it. Loneliness is the crucible of love. It’s the proof that the groom, the friend, the mystic pass at different levels. It is not sterile folding, but realization of the constant novelty of desire: desire of the other, desire to open to the other that part of ourselves that escapes our own gaze, to this other one that is more intimate than ourselves. It is loyalty to the unique desire whose realization is only possible in the invincible hope that constitutes its strength and which, of begging, leads us to the invisible heart of the world.”
“To speak of these things and to try to understand their nature and, having understood it, to try slowly and humbly and constantly to express, to press out again, from the gross earth or what it brings forth, from sound and shape and colour which are the prison gates of our soul, an image of the beauty we have come to understand—that is art.” James Joyce
“It is astounding how I have systematically destroyed myself in the course of the years, it was like a slowly widening breach in a dam, a purposeful action. The spirit that brought it about must now be celebrating triumphs, why doesn’t it let me take part in them ? But perhaps it hasn’t yet achieved its purpose and can therefore think of nothing else ”
Eliraz would say to Paul Celan
“Leave the magical solution to the bees”
It’s a long way to the immemorial night of the inverted Keter
No mirror, no window or screen
The song is older than the Declamation.
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