2013 Temporal intervention

El cuerpo corriente

Bulbs, lamp holders, electric wires, motion sensor. Variable dimensions.

To build, to inhabit another language. Where the body becomes humanity. To build another body. To shape the fervent dream of freedom. In the thread of memory. José Jiménez says «But we are memory. Fragile and fragmented, but still memory. It makes us human beings, culture. » (Jiménez, 1996: 28). Memory is our deepest sign. Humanity sprouts from it. Life and experience fleeting on it find attachment and stability. And what once was, remains. But memory is sharp, like a knife blade. What is more: nothing as sharp as memories. Its waters are erased, like a river descending, by the steps of a hasty life at the bottom, sedimented on the bank. The course flows in a dominant direction. And, within it, hesitation or torrents barely startle waters' doubts. That is why man is in two minds about going up the river flow.
Exercising memory is like returning to a territory from which we were expelled. Like a leap in the dark. A leapt with no room to rest your feet. When we remember, we deprive life of its nervous current. To attempt the motionless of an image, of a profile, where to find refuge to our identity. Inner life does not inhabit the surface. It beats in the depths of the heart. Sunken soul. Subterranean.
As the deepest and most distant filaments of memories. They come and go. Sprouting like plants under light, like dark lightnings, from the most uncertain bottom of earth and time.
Memory works like a sharp filter. Mercilessly consigning the embers which could rekindle old fires. That sharp blade also manifests those dreams that we neither lived nor made come true, abandonments and desertions of ourselves. Memory is selective.
If memory seeks missing our pulse, better to invoke its terrible profile. Seeking after it face to face. Against the current. In a time without memory, without recollections. Our time: when everything looks for a protective shadow of a present time without edges. Abandoned and adrift we seek for light. Clarity and transparency. Upstream, downstream.
Marks, signs, we could look for on the body. In this sound body. Full of sounds, words, smells, images.
An alive and lived body. Fluid matter for common desire. To live. The body runs this world consciously aware. Used to breathing. We hardly move through the thread of time and memory.
We inhabit the body.