A story...
I am standing in a factory. No machinery, no
electricity, no people. Not even stairs or walls. Just a large empty space. I am
all alone. It’s quite and peaceful, there is no need to be scared or worried.
The walls used to be white; hard work has been done here, one could tell by
looking at these walls. A bright light shines down through the ceiling windows,
illuminates half the place. And as I walk through this industrial factory,
completely occupied by it’s impressive size, I’m not wondering what I am
doing here... or noticing the words that are placed on the concrete floor. My
eyes are still blinded by the light from above, all I see is dust swirling
down. My breathing is calm, my moving slow, I am relaxed. When a door gently shuts at the back of the building I know I am not alone anymore. The artist walked in
and I can see an indescribable amount of words written down or glued on a concrete floor, for me to read. Without
looking behind I continue my walk, too exited to stop. Some of the words I can
read, others I can’t. Random words are orderly placed before me in a very
creative way; horizontal and vertical connected to eachother and becoming
lines, as I come to know while I observe. Some are cut out like the ones they use in
ransom notes. They make me curious and long for more... My wish comes true and
new words appear out of nowhere in complete silence. The words keep coming, and
coming, and coming... And as I discover more, the words become smaller, almost
too small to read. But that doesn’t worry me, no room for worries. All nice and meaningful words,
creating a poem, no need for explaination, I just know. Without figuring out
the meaning of this poem or the individual meaning of the words –that is
obviously not the point- I understand completely what this is about and I feel
an amazing connection to this piece of art.
[This was my dream, and you were in it.]
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