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<nowiki>I'm not sure what I'm doing here - I'm only drawing lines, building bridges, constructing roads to get lost on - but isn't that what architects do? - these days I live in my words - like I've been doing for many years - trying to turn them into stepping stones, building blocks - an architecture of words - that is where I start - that is where I always start - what word could I live in? - a firm word but soft at the same time - a long and spacious word - with lots of o's - like orbit but longer - osmosis - optometrist - octobermorning - octoberopacity</nowiki> | <nowiki>I'm not sure what I'm doing here - I'm only drawing lines, building bridges, constructing roads to get lost on - but isn't that what architects do? - these days I live in my words - like I've been doing for many years - trying to turn them into stepping stones, building blocks - an architecture of words - that is where I start - that is where I always start - what word could I live in? - a firm word but soft at the same time - a long and spacious word - with lots of o's - like orbit but longer - osmosis - optometrist - octobermorning - octoberopacity</nowiki> | ||
Revision as of 17:34, 11 February 2013
A soft armour
One of the first days I wore my three piece suit, I saw a flash of blue. I caught it on the inside of my suit. In white thread. I never saw a kingfisher before.
There is an oil stain on my right sleeve. A late dinner with friends. It has been there for 83 days now.
A woman laughed when she scanned the QR code on my back and saw the drawing of the beheaded man. I don’t know why she laughed. He’s always bothering me, scratching my leg.
Something Thoreau said about suits: “beware of all enterprises that require new clothes, and not rather a new wearer of clothes “.
Inside out of sight. Insight outside.
An old man I met on the street told me how they all stored their best suit in the bomb shelter.
Wa(n)(i)ting to uncount days.
Is a landscape a collection of threads? Is a suit a field you can walk through?
I’ll only fight windmills when they spoil the view.
(I wore a three piece walking suit for 103 days. Every day I embroidered a drawing or text on the inside of the suit. Slowly the outer world crept inside while the inside world moved outside. A QR code was embroidered on the back of the suit and linked to a website with the images. The suit turned into a mindmap of what happens when you walk through everyday life in a soft armour.)
day-to-day documentation here: a soft harness
and of course you're very welcome to visit my website: moniquebesten
(in the beginning)
I'm not sure what I'm doing here - I'm only drawing lines, building bridges, constructing roads to get lost on - but isn't that what architects do? - these days I live in my words - like I've been doing for many years - trying to turn them into stepping stones, building blocks - an architecture of words - that is where I start - that is where I always start - what word could I live in? - a firm word but soft at the same time - a long and spacious word - with lots of o's - like orbit but longer - osmosis - optometrist - octobermorning - octoberopacity
more words (and images) here: monique in weimar
or for the walking suit project, go here: a soft harness
and of course you're very welcome to visit my website: moniquebesten