”The end to the belief that I am or can be the origin of my self…” 2009, Malmö, Umeå, Glasgow


The voice over text:

Why did you do the piece? Somehow I was already doing it in so many ways, so, I thought I do it consciously. An attempt to search for subjectivity, intelligible not only to me, I hope. It is impossible in being and viewing not to compare with your self, as   a   self and a being, being your only reference. I realised with time that geography and   memory are parts of being. I am the actor. I can be instructed to play any part, knowingly or not. Normality is unconsciousness. Fear built in to the construction of the self through the terror of the future or, maybe, the parallel now. Through culture it is based on the prediction of punishment, the coming of the apocalypse. Maintaining that fear is what religion always done. In my childhood I often visited a friend who had a computer. This was in the mid eighties and I remember the mix of stress and fear when starting a particular computer-game, a dialogue box occurred on the screen with the message: “please wait while the world is created” Future, existing or not…? Time, memory, nothingness. Attempting to conduct planed actions, future-past. Time indicated through the foaming waves moving away from the bow as the ferry cuts through the water. Indicating: movement, travel, to and fro the isle of sound     as memory. Now, to the forest, to the walk through a large area covered chiefly with trees and undergrowth, a large number or dense mass of vertical or tangled objects : a forest of connecting wires. Memory as an interfering substance that pierce through the impression of now and thereby alters the present, history, understanding and memory itself. Repetitiously. Individuals, victims of trauma, that force themselves to re-live the traumatising moment, drawn to similar situations, ending up in similar situations. Censoring as means to point something out. Creating the sexual, the fear, the terror, the self when life and history joins. There is no end and no beginning. There is no line for time to travel. Now, the end to the belief that I am, or can be, the origin of understanding, the origin of belief, the origin of expression, or even the origin of my self…