comme une / communal luxury, / pas-une & minimalt, liminal, / som ett

/ somatic tic

Glitter cluster,

between languages, between genders, between observations, between arm hair, between the skin and muscle tissue, between the dust particles hovering in the air of a room,

things don’t divide as you assume, they divide as you wouldn’t assume, things divide and coalesce, for instance, always somewhere, or also always somewhere, for instance here,

or here, e e, between two letter e’s, or for instance we cannot assume the number of genders or animal species to be known, or for instance: it is possible to know that the gender system needs to be blown up,

it is possible to blow up a ball for instance

inside this ball it is possible to roll for instance, around, or I can display a tongue here, there you go, here it is, a tongue, I touch its surface, I sneak away to the basement, I don’t know why to the basement, the basement feels, an escape, I want to escape, do I mean that I want to escape language, yes and no, bien sûr,

mais les mains / are horrid dichotomies / di dic din / “frente al muro de oro”,

like rays of light reflected in the corner of the basement, lighttrickles, lightsegments, suddenly gushing slices of speech, things don’t divide as you assume,

tongues don’t crack like

paint, I touch with my finger another finger, the proximity of one sound to another sound, klick, clic, cklicckq, silkpapersnowdrifts, echoed somewhere the distance of a sound,

from the mouth, somewhere the translucent horizon, the silence of the horizon, I touch with my sight the union of the horizon with something else, sliding elsewhere, disappearing,

into a slush of light, tongues crack like paint, interstitial fluids seep through its cracks, tissues disintegrating into shards of feathers

or gender sinking into the waves, gender intertwining with fluff tuft, the common snipe’s infinity, something intertwining with you, hollow

lunar

sound, twist, drift, and

the hand can press itself against the skin of the cheek and the hand can slide through the air between us,

and if there is a border between a tongue and a non-tongue, how can it be caressed, and if there is a border between one tongue and another, how can it be sinked, and if between a border and a non-border there is a space, how can it be turned around,

there is no tongue, there is

heterodox trotskyites / dans la lune / escargot / variaatiot,

inside this skull it is possible for instance to crawl, swallow, clap your hands in awe like

a ball, plop, you can also say

plomp, eventually everything is different, or almost everything

or almost at the same time you say:

AUTHOR’S NOTE

This text (Liquid Space, Passage) was a part of the exhibition ‘No Dot on the I’, by Jani Ruscica, at Kunsthalle Helsinki, 30.4. - 5.6.2022.

It (the mostly-Finnish version) is also going to be a part of my book Glitterneste (2025), and now, it is a part of this book that you are holding. Is it the same text in these different contexts, or several? I don’t think the text believes in samenesses, but I can’t be certain. The text is too slippery for me to master it, well enough to know for sure, or so I hope.

The text was commissioned by Jani. It is written partly in response to our discussions and their works: I feel that it is also a(n early) part of our ongoing dialogue. In addition, it is a part of my own practice of writing, a working-through of certain angles of certain ongoing concerns of mine. Thirdly, it is a disobedient creature that will, I hope, create some kind of an encounter with you, the reader, that I couldn’t possibly imagine.