at wrong times always.
only five days left for the installation, i feel lost, nervous.
how can I squeze my daily tinkerings into that huge, markless space, without any nicks, niches, cavities to fit in?
ı said to him, that it feels like they do belong to a different order. they seem like kits for survival. could be brought to light when needed. like the drugs in the shoe box, or the hammer in the tool box.
you will never know when you will need it, and so is filled our cupboards, drawers with all the stuff that is filled with stuff impossible to bring together otherwise.
daily thinkerings, "a moment in time", "residues of performances", "props"...
they rather can exist as documentation. it is so hard to sustain their physical existence.