During the sleep of Time
Women and men come closer to their animal souls
Indulge our own self and primary dreams
We feed, touch, rest, look at ourself, feel in a cage but it is only a cave from which we cannot escape because we would stop breathing and at the same time deprive others of the breath.
But do the others still exist?
We wonder when we hear them singing.
We wonder if the sun is really there as we look beyond the windows overlooking the street.
We doubt that spring will come because we cannot be pleased with it and therefore the contemplating subject will be missing
then the cherry blossoms will die without making noise …
Today, What day is it? I keep asking myself every time I open my eyes.
As it has always been during this life
I am reborn
But in this apparent void I remain ignorant and disoriented even though my limit space is always the same.
I am a uroboro who takes stops but who continues to reform for survival.
Every night I wonder if it is really night and I answer that in the future when I can breathe the sunset then I will be pervaded by that feeling that I am missing.
And I will still embrace myself again.
Meanwhile, I also think about basic needs
I over-feed myself as I always have, but this time with an extra time cure/care.
I wonder if I can manage my throat cancer this year.
In the meantime, however, I don’t think about this.
I would never want to die in quarantine even if I consider imprisonment in casastudio risky.
I have already seen myself bleeding three times, banging my head on the corner of one of my artworks.
Meanwhile, I operate remotely as digitized open heart surgery and performed by a medical Reverie through a virtual machine. The heart beats healthy again and my artworks are fine.
I get lost in the necessary oneiricisms that for me are reduced to demonstrations of affection.
I who made purity my key
I find myself imagining dirty kisses, broken laws of non-contact, moods swings and smells smelled very close, six-handed relationships. As a condemned woman, I make last wishes.
In the meantime, I wash my hands, my temples, the phone screen and I also rinse my readings.
I rest my face on a memory. Shoulder to shoulder. Reflection to reflection. Heart to heart. Let’s sing the silence together as I turn the hourglass.
Another hour has passed and I weighed it. 3.2 kg of sand and wishes. Tomorrow I will break it I decided but for today we will still survive together…