Why Do I See What I Do Not See?
Swiss Francs, wood dust, wood, plastic,
screen mesh, fake leather, elastic cord,
2-Channels Video, 14′ 12″
I sand my head top urgently until I produce
enough dust. Next I climb up the Açaí
palm-tree to get the Açaí berries. Later I
drink Açaí juice so that my sanded head
grows back. Doomed upon the effect of
anaesthesia, I do this every day. To help to
fit the demand, I have extracted the native
Amazon Açaí palm seed and planted it in
my global flat similarly to my great-greatgrandfather’s
Amazon rubber business.
And while taking this vertical journey to my
Eldorado, I do not know if I will not fall from
the edge of the world. When Pedro Álvares
Cabral in 1500 first glimpsed at that
promising land, he saw wilderness as a
What I see, is an extension of my mind,
a rational reality. I allow my body to sense,
but even when I am naked, I wear gloves.
Whenever I touch, I steal.
Where is the last frontier of the humanembedded
in geological time, artificial
exoticism, stretching back through eternity?
At the crossroads, think of yourself as
an ant dispersing seeds (with the antenna
to tune into that). Find calmness within own
moving shadow. Put your ear to earth.