LEFTOVERS OF A DREAM -
The reason he developed and built that residence at the top of the hill was purely intuitive. It was also a mater of excessiveness. He was really egocentric and self-indulgent. The style is essentially and emphatically random. It is a diversified composition of pure raw and expensive materials. At the end of the day he was never happy. That has been said before by the mother of his first partner somewhere outdoors while having sea bass with lemon and virgin olive oil. And some extremely thin flat bread with cheese. It was delicious. However in the future he will be trying to become lacto-vegetarian. The action of this will be fascinating because it is something impracticable for him.
I walked up the stairs to see you.
You were not looking at me.
I noticed a birdcage like form covered in red.
I placed a precious ornamental sculptural mockup that I discovered on my journey I was for 2 years 2 years ago. It was protected. I always like to play with natural force balancing objects and structures. I never knew it would be so not important for other people around me. Yes I always want to be surrounded by others. Well the red was blood. My sculpture broke. He moved inside and he destroyed everything.
I had left the door open.
The wind was vigorous.
He was not feeling well. Wondering whether he would leave and travel to a new place, a new scenario, a new dream. Long surviving forage for an opulent, sybaritic, debauched lifestyle. That also might be a lie. He was fascinated instead by the sacrament and spiritual meaning of life. I was not being part of it. A static moment, something is gone. A colossal fabric in voluptuous crimson red velvet. Dust. Tracing back to a vexatious notwithstanding orgasmic pleasure. Utmost delicacy. (Fig 2)
I walked for hours lost in a set. A mind set. I am still not sure if this is reality or some version of it. It was a long sand, like infinity dunes. I arrived to the point where I had to deal with a strange convoluted scenery. The decorations on the walls had been transformed to create a non-guarding gate that leads to a pink, monolithic, empty Pompeian house. He was really fascinated when he saw the drawings on the wall of the villa Boscotrecase. This time he found the way to re appropriate forms shapes and geometries from history for his own pleasure. He lived always doubting whether his work should not be important for anyone else. (Fig 5)
I started dreaming before I fell asleep.
I got out a few minutes ago. I think of you too much. She must be thinking of me too. I am wondering. Sometimes the need to follow and repeatedly revisit a memory is hurtful. I remember when there was a powerful tension; when our eyes were staring at each other. Harmony. I am still here, without any movement, almost like a stuffed body filled with idle feelings. No ripples until I just got back in. (Fig 3)
I used to stare at you.
I used to feel passion.
I wanted to preserve this so it could last forever.
It has to feel like a small secret monument.
I used to feel strong.
This weather is hurting me but it’s divine.
It destroys me.
I always end up protecting you. I don’t know why I developed this design intuition when I create an environment. It’s stronger than you. You can get support from it. It’s delicate. You can convolute the way you look from inside of it. You always look precious. It feels sensual, living in a voluptuous fragile cage. Sometimes you are not able to identify the two in this dialogue. Who is the most powerful? Who has the strongest status? The one who interprets and makes it or the one that exists inside of it? Clearly, there is something missing or something more. (Fig 1)
It is white’s enrapture,
Life grows through its fractures.
You are there,
I am not aware!
The delicacy sometimes reflects on you, it shines on you. I do feel protected and also feel the protector myself. Once I am gone this transforms to an abstract inhabited entity. It’s a foolish thought.
Sadly, without this death, I can’t live. (Fig 4)
I want you to question the status of the whole entity. I also include myself in this. Feel free to stare at me. Feel free to talk to me. Feel free to come and touch me.
*The colossal red velvet fabric is missing at this point.
I am also fascinated with the “tantamount” function on this typing machine.
Eutychius, London 2016