My dad will try
There will be flowers in the eyes
To flowers in the eyes
Deer flowers
Brother sister
It's walking around, suffering, dancing
An irreducible combination of the three
Starting from a movement
Repetition, acceleration
Flat headlamp
It is not clear where they come from
What is their purpose
For 3 days
A sort of ritual for my father's glaucoma.
The movements are fast, how do they reflect
speed?
So as to build a language of rhythm.
Let's put on each other's glasses.
Fog that pulls towards the white
taking its time and that settles further and further
Found at dawn and dusk
Drawing the real image towards the dawn
and this white is not
to go back in time
from the future into the present
With some techno music
And potentially end on a blank.
Text by Rosanna Puyol, 2022