“Monkey”.text

2 fathers

2 males

1st an artist I met one time

2nd a person I thought I knew, a friend

one female

studio of an artist

pillows

wood

Sometimes he was speaking in Greek. I wish I could quote him but the words get mixed with some sort of sense about the space…….they become sounds that I do not remember very well but I remember their meaning, fractured through my own senses and understanding of what I wanted to understand.

The materials, he said……

‘They are something I know ……’

‘Something I feel close to.’

Then I said. ..’Like you feel connected?’

Then he said ,,,,,,’yes I feel connected,,’

That space there.

This boat .

The monkey heart,,,,, the little pieces it was made out of ,,,, the heart. The monkey had 2 different eyes I remember , I was drawing one day two eyes or two things that they had to be two things. I didn’t know how exactly they must be, but after I finished them I realized…..’huh ‘they aren’t quite the same ……the monkey of the eyes

Blue

Heart

‘My father was a carpenter…….’

‘I grew up with these materials….’

‘I feel them in a way…. I’ve worked with them ….’

He gave us pillows. We were sitting on his wooden floor.

It was natural to me sit and feel the wood as well as the idea of a floor

He gave us these pillows for to sit on. There were monkeys on them with long tails….. looked like they were jumping to catch a branch of a tree.

Monkeys

When I was a baby like 2 or 3 months old….. there were pictures and posters of monkeys around me ..i was in a cradle and I remember the wall behind my head ..I could look up and back.. I was doing that quite often

I dreamt of that bed with pictures of monkeys ….later on like looking at my self  from outside

I remembered them somehow…. I have a memory of that ….

My mom told me there were monkeys all around my bed ..for real

But when I was very small ?it’s interesting how I have a visual memory of that time ..of my self in that bed …with an outside eye

the pillows …I was thinking …my pillow was the smallest of all …then I thought that fits  to a small butt!

completely absorbed into my own thoughts, relating things to me in that space, I was relating things that would remind me of me things I “feel connected with “ things I know from my world.. that were into his world

what were they for him what were they for me

were they for him what they were for me ?

the material

these thin sheets of wood… so easy to break… so fragile

somebody said ‘and if it breaks ?’

he said ‘its part of the project’

his work is still alive and he does not scare of approaching to its destruction with us (I need to say here ‘he does not scare not he was not scared’)

something I will do I have treated things of mine like that

I must go back and ask why

Reflection of the moment a scratch on the wood… it happened

‘The history  of it’ he says

Its part of its history

I’ve said that myself

Its one thing about the works’ own experience and its another thing about how one documents or communicates it, the work does that by it self as well, but is that important?

There was a window that was connected with another building through two wooden slices.. was like a passage

Wooden

I was thinking about his fingers while he is working and the way the wood can penetrate his skin

I asked him do you wear gloves while you are working

He said I am not a surgeon

Does he pain ?

Does he like it?

Something he feels connected to

Something that he worked with as a child

Something he knew

Something he knows

Something he is still touching

Something he is still searching

I was looking at his work like that maybe because he said :

‘When you see works and works there are just out of the many that flash than call you that make you go close to them…’

‘The work calls you’ he said

Because there is something about it that (I don’t remember his exact words) but ….something that you can relate to, something that ‘calls you’

More like ……something that is shiny

He mentioned that or I understood that ………..

He knitted his boat (interlocking loops of a material)

Become united make stitches,  knit together bones, cause to unite or combine

And then that other thought the necessity to be something with ought having to be something specific

Anything can become part of the work

Is that so?

Made necessary by particular circumstances. an ‘ongoing dialogue’ he says

Primitive marks

Scratches

On wood

Marks

He was moving his works

A can

Wood

Thoughts about the self

I was thinking god I have so many ideas

So many

So many

So many

So many so many

Information machine. do I need some sort of display ?

Visible material expression

Sometimes everything happens very fast why not make happen this one fast

I need some sort of transparent fluid to make a transparent ball I think that this will be a suitable display garment for the pieces left9or whats left of it) from my Dress, from the video The DRESS.

Like a transparent ball with a 1.5 diameter supported by two back metal straight legs and two front  3 is enough but I saw 4

I keep the dress in a green garbage bag on my terrace

My cat peed once on it

The rain is kissing it sometimes

The sun the temperatures

I move it

It is getting smaller and smaller… ‘It’s part of the project’ she says

Sometimes I don’t know where it is

So many

So many

I reflect my self all the time all the time

All the time

Am I hiding

Can I hide

Hiding

Hiding something from someone

Hide

Is He another….. he is hiding

When I say words and they don’t reflect me they hide me I don’t like them

I like the spotlight, Giannis says

I like feeling I say

I feel

I can feel

Feel

Full of feelings

Blowing up

Feel

I can feel

Is it the temperature of her skin

but it is not about childhood and times

and fathers carpenters or fathers that like monkeys

it is about feeling

I have  a feeling about mud earth

The smell of it

The black that leaves under my nails when I dig into it

I have a feeling about that transparent fluid

I have a feeling about reflection

I have feelings about everything in my life

I have relationships with that each everything

Do we discard things when we don’t have feelings about them?

What else is out there

What else is in here ?

Fragment fragment concept a thing invasion control thought skin

Passion aggression

Feelings fragment and the overall picture?

Is there an overall picture

Should there be any?

Let it be and it goes everywhere

Lost in reflection is that it

Focused on reflection is that it

What is it

What is lost what is confused what is what ?

I do not feel confused

I do not feel lost

I feel I feel

In the middle of my heart

Tiny white point

Why did you leave me when I most needed you  I needed you because you asked me to do so

He lost his incorporation, I was an operation, a work of art

Maybe he was a surgeon

Maybe I was a surgeon, a hiding one

Get it done in simple sentences

Double exposures, triple exposures, multiple exposures

To play the perfect exposure on any background

The distance between the background an the perfect exposure

The thing I asked for I cannot see it

Magic chairs (windows) into a new interesting arrangement

To re-imagine

He is the perfect human

Here is the woman what is she doing? Who is she?

I don’t know what to say about her..is so much

I would like to know something about him

Getting it right I want to feel to describe to describe

The feeling of

I want to see what he can and what he cannot

I want to see him