feelings with no name

reflecting on Paper-Girl-Chain by Bagenzo + Fotocopiadora, and a time in life it reminded me of.

pasting together collage bits of ancient masterpieces into landscapes of incomprehensible scale, scanned into a computer and expanded on a background of template colours.

walk around this space made from bedroom obsession and a young kid’s collection of artbooks from the dead and dying parts of her family.

imagine looking into david’s michaelangelo cut up for you with the body of a doll.

putting on a lost earring that we found in that room, after it’d come loose, as we ended things.

the window was on eye level with the very ground of a car park. i tacked up scarves over the broken shutters. a cat walks in and out. no-one owns it.

the sadness in the vast cut up archive is of looking at something whole. something unfinished in its clarity and sense of completeness as an object. collage is a lifeline.

a person telling another person they will hurt someone. the person that said that screaming for help that can’t come because it doesn’t have a name. it’s not shaped like anything. escape hatch. some neighbour knocks. someone calls the police. small scissors for doing the outlines of madonna and child.

build a new world in miniature. tie me up and make me over. we won’t say goodbye when we mean to and we haven’t even told each other we’re sorry yet. but in so many messages. sorry.

i know a song like that. i play it on repeat thinking of my new friends and how they think it’s a pretty funny song. they’re right. it is, it’s called ‘one week by barenaked ladies’. look it up.