“isn’t desire always the same, whether the object is present or absent? Isn’t the object always absent?” —
Roland Barthes, A Lover’s Discourse: Fragments
“In short, a word can be erotic on two opposing conditions, both excessive: if it is extravagantly repeated, or on the contrary, if it is unexpected, succulent in its newness… In both cases, the same physics of bliss, the groove, the inscription, the syncope: what is hollowed out, tamped down, or what explodes, detonates.” —
Roland Barthes, The Pleasure of the Text
Now Becoming Then by Duane Michals, 1978
“When I say, ‘this is now’, it becomes then. There is not now, it appears to us as a moment, but the moment itself is an illusion. It is and isn’t, and this illusion is a series of about-to-bes and has-beens, that put together seem an event. It is a construction, an invention of our minds. Its familiarity makes it invisible. Our lives are real dreams that have been just one moment, all at once, now.”
David Lynch, The Factory Photographs
1. Untitled (Lódź), 2000
2 + 3. Untitled (England), late 1980s/early 1990s
"I love industry. Pipes. I love fluid and smoke. I love man-made things. I like to see people hard at work, and I like to see sludge and man-made waste."
I am a victim of tactilism. I have too many erogenous zones for one body. Sometimes I feel that I can’t even fit into it.
I am a hand with six fingers with webs in between. Instead of fingernails I have petite, sharp, sweet-toothed little tongues with which I lick the world.” — Jan Švankmajer - Excerpt from the diary he kept during the pre-production phase of Otesánek (Little Otík), dated 5 March 1999
“Say: I am real, this is real, the world is real, and nobody laughs. But say: this is a simulacrum, you are only a simulacrum, this war is a simulacrum, and everybody bursts out laughing. With a condescending and yellow laughter, or perhaps a convulsive one, as if it was a childish joke or an obscene invitation. Anything which belongs to the order of simulacrum is obscene or forbidden, similar to that which belongs to sex or death. However, our belief in reality and evidence is far more obscene. Truth is what should be laughed at. One may dream of a culture where everyone bursts into laughter when someone says: this is true, this is real.” —
“I touch my left hand with my right hand and my body is both touching and touched, subject and object, a union of the two.” —
Maurice Merleau-Ponty, Phenomenology of Perception
Stills from Film Stenopeico by Paolo Gioli, 1974-1989
"This film, as the Vertovian title indicates, was made without a movie camera, more precisely with a device custom made to restore to images freedom from optics and mechanics. The act of substituting my device for a traditional movie camera is part of a project I have continued from that moment on towards weaning myself from a consumer technology, a toxin to pure creativity. This strange movie camera is a simple hollow metal tube, one centimeter thick, two centimeters wide, and a little more than a meter long. At the ends, two reels hold 16mm film. Film is pulled through manually causing alternations of time and space. The images enter simultaneously through 150 holes distributed along one side in proximity to each frame, that come to make up 150 tiny pinhole camera obscuras, also called stenopeic from the Greek stenos = narrow and from the stem op- from orào = to see. These tiny holes, when placed, for example, in front of a standing human figure, can explore it in its verticality but without any movement, which is appropriate since each hole will take in a single point, the detail in front of which the hole lies. One of the most obvious results will be to find oneself confronted precisely with a movement of the camera that never happened; somewhat magical pneumatic flutterings running longitudinally and transversally along a face and body reconstructed through 150 image points.”
“You’d. Verb. Me.” —
Kathy Acker, Blood and Guts in High School
“Desire is no light thing.” —
Anne Carson, Autobiography of Red
“People have always been divided into two groups: victim and murderers. I don’t know whether it is possible to free oneself from one group and switch over to the other during one’s life. I at least have not yet managed to become a murderer. It’s my fate to be an eternal victim. Naturally this has meant that I’ve become a hypochondriac, just like every victim or real murderer.” —
Unica Zurn, The House of Illnesses.
“And yet it disturbs me to learn I have hurt someone unintentionally. I want all my hurts to be intentional.” —
From Cat’s Eye by Margaret Atwood
“When I desire you a part of me is gone; your lack is my lack. I would not be in want of you unless you had partaken of me, the lover reasons. “A hole is being gnawed in [my] vitals” says Sappho. “You have snatched my lungs out of my chest,” and “pierced me right through the bones” says Archilochos. “You have worn me down,” (Alkman) “grated me away,” (Archilochos) “devoured my flesh,” (Archilochos) “sucked my blood,” (Theokritos) “mowed off my genitals,” (Archilochos) “stolen my reasoning mind” (Theognis).” —
Anne Carson, Eros: The Bittersweet.
“Alone, queen-like. Their disgrace is a matter of course.” —
Marguerite Duras, The Lover.
“I warned you clearly
An omnivorous poet,
I eat everything.” —
Elvira Riveiro Tobío, from “Carnia Haikai,” trans. Adrian West