Neja Zorzut (SI)
The space is a disinfection corridor into which sepsis has penetrated through softness, through barely existing, yet sharp edges. The walls and floor coverings are most convenient for obsessive cleaning, and in a similar manner, the precisely organised multiplicity outside the half-space enters and tactilely adheres. Imagine a habitat, e.g., a slaughterhouse, that moves somewhere in between the half-open and half-closed space, a space that flies can fly into, the ones that are of thermochromic colour if you look at them in a specific light and under a certain angle. Over there, softness is continually merged into hardness, into rigid flesh tissue, where insects are transforming into flesh. The boundary is merely a sample, there is an alternating impression of insects turning into flesh and flesh into insects.
Filaments are spreading all over the space, objects are continuously upgrading themselves into their own bodies, and this space is certainly not only an environment with similar organic bacteria/accelerators of building aka decomposing, they are tied to flesh violence, to spasms, to indentation, to movement, to non/control. Bodies continue to grow and it is in the furrow of growth that violence forms, that is, specific violence, visible only by touch that demands proximity. Although the resulting bodies have always been in the corridor, but have now begun to violently penetrate into the half-space, they’ve become their own exterior. The forms are changing their shape and functioning in co-creation with the environment. Fibres are being born in the air; they are creating an intermediate space by aggregating their movement from supple to solid. The intermediate space between objects is the object. Co-existence in betwixt, in a complex interaction where the flow of organic matter is a transitional process.
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