To dare to listen. Listen dear. Inner ear. Is it words we are talking about? Words, worlds. In another language, where ”to name” (something) also means ”to shatter” (something). Shatter to pieces or shatter the unspeakable! You know, I think. Shatter to pieces, destroying cultures. Pieces like sawdust, floating in the sea, taken by the wind. Like seeds they will sprout somewhere else. If you die hard enough you will become alive again. Or? Becoming dark. Seeds die and become something from memory. Memory seeds. Seeds of memory named and shattered, spread out to sprout again somewhere else. To listen to the wind, whatever, cliché. What happens if we shatter the world? Big bang, dust glimmering because they are stars. Big ball of sawdust, dust-ball, really big cloud of dust. Just, to do it all over again. Blessed be the west, destroying cultures and making it alive again. The way we treat nature = the way we treat culture? I don’t know. I’m just a dreamer. No, not romantic enough to be a dreamer. The dream of the earth. To dare to listen. I dare me to listen. Me dare you to listen. Listen to what? Are we talking, ooops! Are we listening to sounds? Stop talking.
“3 2 1 zero and beyond” (2017), mono-print on textile, 120 x 750 cm. Solo exhibition at Lokaal 1b, Amsterdam.