– walking, in the rhythm of the body, aimless, to the edges, where
the city is fibrous.
Dumps, garden settlements, fallow land, industry – forgotten places.
A blue box, cracked and bleached, the battered pickup with orange stripes,
a fence of bed frames, the fortress of containers – EVERGREEN, GOLD,
MAERSK – messages all over the world – orange, light-blue,
green and rust-red. Things, they force the look.
I’ve got an idea, I’ve got sheets, I’ve got colours.
I divide the sheets in halves, everyone gets a colour. I do that a time.
They lie on the floor, lean against the wall.
It follows accidental correspondences – they produce a notion.
Material and idea come in use. Memories start of a colours shining, of
a surfaces touching, of distances and spaces.
I move the things, put them in order and disperse – until they are
something of one’s own, surprise –