No Camera

Polar Maps

Posted in Dreamland by ION on 16/10/2008


The maps of Frost exist. Hand painted by shaking hands, caressing the edges of frozen land.
Notes, images, found objects, bills, film clips, tickets, fantasy invented travelogues,
old enough to scar one million memories in one’s mind. Elements retrace the footsteps of dream travelers.
Seamless mobility between dreams.

So, we’ll meet at the airport. I hope you still remember what time. We’ll meet
Daniel Day Lewis there, too. He will sign an autograph for both of us.
He will be kind and shy. His hands will tremble. But, then, all together, we’ll kick off Amsterdam and raise Van Gogh’s heartbeat. Soon, we’ll scare London and maybe erase Paris from our hearts.

I open the curtains, so the light comes in. Come On Die Young has been playing for hours on repeat. The wind is howling outside. I sketch on blank pages, trying to explain how time leads to days with no nights. The sound of the wind is getting stronger and stronger. The wind is banging down your cactus on the kitchen floor. I still forget how many terabytes we left behind.

Camera is on. Recording sounds from the other side of reality. Outside air temperature
-36°C. A new surface estimates all spectral parameters of signals in our wavefields. Year = 1996. Volume = 11.
We suddenly realize we write in different languages. We use different applications.
We all analyze the mathematics of living.


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