Light I

Schematical markings testify traces of light… 8 minutes and 17 seconds. That is how long it takes for sunlight to reach us. A remnant of light, an existential source of life. A journey spanning one hundred million kilometres. We see what has already been left to us… Again and again, repeatedly and constantly, these rays penetrate our daily spaces, our cells, our small boxes where we too leave behind our own traces. Slowly, we caress the everyday with our fingers – the surfaces constantly touched both by light and by our palms. The everyday, moving through time, space, and memory.

Fragmented lines mark out a spatial sundial, imprints of sun-burned lines. The contours of light beams falling into space create a spatial chronometer. As the rays break through the windows and intertwine in multifaceted forms, time becomes visually pronounced. Abstracted lines, settling on the walls and floors of the room, act like a scanning of space through time, seeking to reveal the contexts of time.

…

Pressed close to the cell floor, I scrub the multi-layered, paint-stained surface of the wooden planks. With every touch, I stir up the dust of footsteps that once passed through here – the traces left behind. I wonder how many richly worn edges of the cell I am now touching. How vividly, in my imagination, other, unknown bodies begin to take shape – thoughtful, absorbed in contemplation, perhaps even led by such reflection to pace in small orbits around this narrow studio.

Some of the floorboards resist being uncovered – probably because of the thick layers of paint. As I rub the surface of the planks, a gentle flame kindles in my fingers, especially in my thumb – likely the heat of friction. It feels as though this spark figuratively fills with life, with presence – as if it generates energy, much like the direct ray of sunlight now hitting my right shoulder. I notice how I adjust my movements just to remain within its reach – so that this sharp-edged warmth, this contact, doesn’t fade away.