Love is a ruin. It decays, but it always stays the same. The use of it ceases to exist. We don’t know what to do with it. Anymore. So we sit. And we wait. We even left the chairs. Now they’re standing there, as two ruins in a lit setting. Spotlight is on. The stage is there. It’s freezing cold, at least minus 5 degrees. No wonder why we left. Not even the light makes it cozy or warm.
So I got them a strawberry plant. It has small green strawberries on it. Soon they’ll be red and ready to eat. And next year the plant will have dissiminated, more plants will grow from this one and so, in a couple of years their new family house will be full of green strawberry plants with white and yellow flowers. The plants will take over, cover the house. And then, the girl slept for thousand years. She woke up, there was a prince, able to cut his way through the strawberries and wake her up from her dream. What a shame, it was so nice to sleep, to stay with the ruin and live its dreamworld. Now she has to rediscover her house, the castle of her parents and the whole kingdom. Underneath the kingdom there’s a hidden world. It never ceased to decay. It keeps it’s life going, because no one dares to enter it. It cannot be decided to ruin. So she asked, what is it that cannot ruin? The love for someone, for a place? Is love existing as a renewed ruin, always alive… There was a temple, in India, a temple praising the sun. She laid down, drank a lot of water. The mountain was grey and stoney like the temple. Predicting the path of the sun. Thousands of years old. And on the way, a group of children followed them. Until they couldn’t walk anymore. To reach the ruin. As a never happy ending catastrophe. And there they sat, or did they, on two chairs in the freezing cold north. They temselves entering the only possible life, a decaying, collapsing life. Love is a ruin.
Filed under: Dagens ord / Word(s) of the day
Borough market, London, yesterday morning.
Filed under: X
Nino Kayal sent a message to the members of B|BA’.
——————–
(no subject)
Dear Friends,
Our Weekly Schedule is still the same.
Any changes made will be sent to you.
Remember,MAKE LOVE NOT WAR.
Be Safe.
——————–
(facebook message from the manager of Biba, a bar in Beirut)
Filed under: Kunst / Art, The Love Libration Movement, bla bla on writing and language
i know you got charm and appeal.
you always play the field.
i’m crazy you are mine.
as long as the sun continues to shine,
there’s a place in my heart for you.
that’s the bottomline
(- so let’s face it, it interests us. after all it’s our field; a battle ground? a playground?)
email to mirene
and thinking about borders and places. to me home works IV was inspiring for two reasons:
1, that you, kati and i were spending time together within a frame that generated thinking and that we rediscovered a desire and a need to act; ghost dance project, the article for exit and a possible proposal of a writing workshop for a.a.. we seem to have taken up some threads that were already there in london, and now they have developed into different directions. it adds people to place and borders and i really think the environment within or outside of academia is extremely important, i.e. i believe in collaboration and collective reflection (alongside solitary studies, if wanted)
2, the complete interdisciplinarity of the event (home works) was a great statement. interdisciplinarity between disciplins and between peoples practices. not for the sake of interdisciplinarity, but because it showed that what you are not necessarily what you do.
point 2 became much more apparent when coming from and going back to a danish context, where the borders are kept quite strict. many artists still believe that art historians are people who never succeeded to become artists or that art historians are in desperate need of artists to interpretate wildly over something which is quite banal; there’s still the idea of the art historian as someone who lives from artists (like these animals) and that even though this is a close cirquit relation, it’s not regarded as 1 organism, but 2 really seperate things. what we have is the role of the art historian as a mediator and not as a producer… not as someone who creates a thing on its own (as they tried to teach us at goldsmiths) and thereby there’s no possibility of generating anything new that might have the potential of being political.
this environment is of course killing together with academia, where one cannot experiment with new forms of text (should one?). one can only experiment with ones research as i try to do with my archive. but this archive cannot be incorporated into the academic text i’m writing.
place/borders/people – borders are there for people to cross them and experience new places/contexts… should we try to eliminate any border between theory and practice..? i’m not sure, but i know it’s necessary to have a space for this elimination/playfulness etc. should it be within academia? – yes, why not. it will give a serious space for such proposals to unfold.
the political – agency. some of the texts mentioned in the beginning (Roland Barthes: barthes on barthes Ranciere: politics of aesthetics, benjamin: the author as producer, sedgwick: paranoid reading and reparative reading, or, you’re so paranoid, you probably think this essay is about you, okwui enwezor: the artist as producer in the time of crisis) relate to the political through either openness or creation of the new/creation of an abruption to make people take a stand. the text itself has a potential, which the artwork has as well.
regarding the new and liberalism i think the discussion after brian holmes‘ lecture at home works was interesting, because it touched upon the need of creating new possible dreams for people with the dilemma of having neocapitalism and liberalism incorporating these dreams immediately. and it asked the question, should we produce the new for the sake of the new? and what if the new is worse than the old?
