When I was a child
my mother lived
just by the edge of our country
After the edge there was water,
and on very clear days,
a silhouette of something
past the horizon
could be seen
We gave it cryptic names
Turned it into a kingdom
of dysfunctional
royal family members
In our shared fabrications
the royal family were fantastical,
crooked beings, they wore
rag-like clothes,
really ill-fitting cycling shorts
and moth-eaten t-shirts
Their make-up couldn’t stick
to their face
so an eye shadow would easily
become a tear
North of our house
were ice sheets
that formed their own
sovereignty
Although a continuation
indicates a certain level of repetition,
the stubborn temperature
at minus six degrees celsius
has taught me to identify
subtle shifts in my surrounding nature
When known cycles disappear,
new patterns appear
I’m still adjusting even though I know
I wouldn’t need to
I could leave this place
and seek for clues and comfort elsewhere,
just like everyone else
But I’m staying here
I’ve found purpose in this place
I’ve been given a purpose to stay
I used to think that if I could document all sensations in a given moment, I would later on be able to travel back to that place in my mind. Close my eyes to the present and open them to the past. I memorized the temperature, the nuances of the season, the height from which I was looking, dimensions, proportions and held this as a piece of evidence.
She writes portraits
Or rather
she has found someone
who writes them for her
She considers herself a compiler of assets
Her collaborator could be
compared to an archivist
Someone who analyses content
It was no easy task to find someone
suitable
for the extent of her documentation
Sometimes she asks herself,
why recompose something so compostable
as the memory of someone?
When you miss someone,
what is it, you miss about them?
An image, a picture?
Where in your presence do they reside
when you forget about them?
The way they look at you when they ask;
should I get you a coffee?
Their voice on the other line,
breaking up through a weak connection,
telling you they are on their way,
and the way they smell
when they come pick you up from your work
Waiting outside,
the way they look
at the people passing by
and the passers by
gaze on them
How they speak
to someone over the counter
You lock eyes,
for the first time
How did they feel the first time you touched?
The way they get dressed,
asking for your opinion,
what color suits them the best?
The way they undress
How they fold their clothes
after they’ve been washed
Open the fridge, open a window,
ask for a lighter, gaze at something odd,
in the periphery of your shared frame
Is it the way they touch you
when they try to reach you,
reach through you,
that stays
when everything else has departed?
<3 - 2023-12-29 13:36:28 - <3<333333
adolphus50@moneysquad.org - 2022-10-06 00:56:37 -
- 2022-10-06 00:56:37 -
adolphus50@moneysquad.org - 2022-10-06 00:56:35 -
joan14 - 2022-10-06 00:56:35 -
Developer - 2022-10-06 00:56:33 -
Developer - 2022-10-06 00:56:25 -
shannon_boyer@moneysquad.org - 2022-10-06 00:56:09 -
- 2022-10-06 00:56:08 -
shannon_boyer@moneysquad.org - 2022-10-06 00:56:06 -
joan14 - 2022-10-06 00:56:05 -
shannon_boyer@moneysquad.org - 2022-10-06 00:56:03 -
joan14 - 2022-10-06 00:55:57 -
118 Yundt Burg - 2022-10-06 00:51:14 -
- 2022-10-06 00:51:14 -
118 Yundt Burg - 2022-10-06 00:51:13 -
Suite 574 - 2022-10-06 00:51:12 -
118 Yundt Burg - 2022-10-06 00:51:11 -
Suite 574 - 2022-10-06 00:51:03 -
lonnie46 - 2022-10-06 00:50:45 -
- 2022-10-06 00:50:44 -
lonnie46 - 2022-10-06 00:50:43 -
nico.franecki@bdcimail.com - 2022-10-06 00:50:42 -
nico.franecki@bdcimail.com - 2022-10-06 00:50:40 -
lonnie46 - 2022-10-06 00:50:38 -
lonnie46 - 2022-10-06 00:50:21 -
- 2022-10-06 00:50:19 -
lonnie46 - 2022-10-06 00:50:17 -
baylee_harris@bdcimail.com - 2022-10-06 00:50:15 -
baylee_harris@bdcimail.com - 2022-10-06 00:50:13 -
lonnie46 - 2022-10-06 00:50:08 -
E - 2022-04-11 00:22:06 - so beautiful
- 2022-04-11 00:21:49 -
- 2022-04-11 00:20:38 -
*_* - 2022-03-31 12:01:05 - I love it!!