gas foraday

But when
the blue is erased, the uniform,
shines the matt, that is like marblestone, like ore,
indication of riches...
(Hölderlin, What Is Men's Life?)                                                                                                                                                                                                  

Knowledge is an obscure thing. The image of a bowl holding the cosmos within is our universe that begins, as one who collects food, matter, experiences. The narrative of time accumulates stories imagined, observed, projected, omitted.

An idea of ​​history's precariousness. The extreme fragility of the universe contained in a bowl, on the pages we read, on libraries, museums, schools, in the memories we build. The indefinite idea of ​​history, the future in the projected expectation, a part of the very time of possibility for anything - the time that can be, the history to be made.

If we focused on the cosmic dimension of personal stories that intersect, confound and transfigure themselves to create constellations, we would not fail to notice the visible intensity of each representation. Each cosmic body would need our attention so that, sharing it with others, we could begin to draw, reproduce, show and narrate its story.

The announcement of the universe as the backdrop of the image: between lightness and combustion, what we narrate is also image by word; symbols and sounds that make up other images, stories waiting for a visual interpretation. Like the bowl, the possibility of visualization contains a logical unit of meaning - it is real what is necessary, not necessarily what exists. A mysterious drive for reconciliation with reality acts permanently upon us. We look and sometimes we find out.

Sandra Vieira Jürgens