July 2019

sinking

sinking

HHR - on memory

a face of thirty years ago, stored where? stored how? as a situation, or rather attitude, with a particular countenance (muscles, washed hair, posture)

 


humming of a ventilator, following its overtones

buying a bus ticket

creating memories: the "roof" over the terasse, two semitransparent layers of a polypropylene fabric. fabric, dark blue, taking a variable distance to each other in the slight wind, thus creating the impression of layers and moving texture. just before sunset, a dark blue gleam. to represent that as "a piece' would be a magnifique piece... the light too faint, the letters becoming blurry in front of my eyes, I'm writing blindly.

transaction, out-of-time. in which temporal layer is information created? (by whom?)

was is "created" if we drop the term "information".

we rotate when we observe a "piece" all along from its emergence. it is not a cumulative heap, but a fixpoint, or rather a body that is slower than ours, such that we see it first 'in front of us', then eventually 'with us' – "seeing" it no longer – then sidebound and finally hidebound – 'configuration'.

It's never about bottom-up or top-down, we can only ever go from the unconcrete to the concrete. Separate foreground from background. Writing from paper, dark blue from bright blue. Words emerge from bundles of lines. At the location of the pencil tip, there is always the blurry point (the shadow cast brings foreground and background together one more time; cast by the pencil). Body and hand.

tandem breathing.
"do you know that feeling when sex becomes so involute that you no longer can distinguish which limbs are your own and which are your partner's?" why was this sentence that someone uttered fifteen years ago stored? and why was it recalled? just as the face of an elder woman that I cannot place, or, more scarily, the face of an aquaintance that I "know" but cannot visualise in front of my mind's eye. Even more perplexing as I saw somebody whose face remind me of the other (non visualisable). Did the new face cast a shadow over the old? Can the old be reactivated without physical-outside stimulus? (probably).

interpolating text.

When "I" bring the swallows into the foreground. Non-conscious to conscious. What if that was a continuum instead of a categorial leap? The acoustical compression when in a stasis of silence a cry or stroke of a bell is heard, transferring the silence – non-conscious to conscious? A muscle contracts. If not the level difference is crucial but the action of the contraction itself, that procedure.

The moment in which the cicadas fall silent; the one in which the mosquitos begin to bite. In retrospect, moments in time. But in their processual form? The gradient of smell from mosquito repellent back to the proper smell of the skin.

Non-conscious as deinviduality melts with umwelt. be-not.

Memorising: only now, the wall paper on the ceiling (three sheets). Or? Perhaps they had already been memorised and could be microphenomenologically invoked?

Smell evaporates. An ancient molecule of cigarette smoke.

 

 


The act-of-writing-your-system is crucial, not so much the system itself.

A question of speed: walk slow enough that the white pebbles on the ground stabilise against the moving water, so you can do the next step.
"Intrinsic speed".

Economies of attention: Feet-on-pebbles. Humming of the ventilator. Smell of the mosquito repellent. The widening of the pencil's tip.
The speed of coming-from-background-into-the-foreground of the writing increases. Emerging daylight, but no colours yet.

The first cicada. Now is this a "moment"? The moment of the first cicada? How long will it take to write this text? Fifteen lines, and fifteen lines,
and...

August 2019

HHR - Schutt 190816

stored where? stored how?