what is made from this is, from this break off
i first consider you as the “guest”
you find me in my room, i am undressing
what is made from of this is which is that you
the “host” greets you at the door
spread thin on the door, a guest
the “host” asks you to leave, dropping the act
i am in my room, undressing—i wore too much
the weather was not hospitable
it was too warm, and there was no breeze
what is made from this is, from this, you
break off and in the night you return
they said leave, we came back, they said
leave for ever, and we forever returned
the “host” was really awful
it is orange, the light at least, the evening
has come, has gone. it is the orange sun.
the warm wind hits the leaves of the trees
below but they do not move.
starting with that case, the one of the guests. on the topic of hospitality. on what is extended temporarily, what is extended without limits. what does it mean to arrive? what does it mean to be welcomed? to be received? what does it mean to be held in place?
urgency in this project is low when the entire landscape is legible as an unrelenting field of subjugation. in that there is everything to say there is nothing, in that everything is the subject there is nothing to portray. in that there is nothing exceptional this place is overwhelmed by a narcissistic disposition, exceptionally unexceptional
