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Today I´m so excited. Weŕe gonna move all the stuff in to the museum. Next thursday is the opening day, with performance. Then the exhibition will stay until 30.08.2020. Hope you will come to see!!
There will be 10 live performances during this period, and info about every performance will be posted at Skmuś homepage. My performative installation is supported by the The Norwegian Cultural Council and Kristiansand Municipality.
Welcome!
The Absence 2. (for english, please look further down)
Gjennom natten sover jeg langsomt og husker
den gangen jeg var to og uten tvil.
Vi hadde hver vår arm, kunne styre og seire
gjennom byens lys og farer.
Elven som rant gjennom ble vår stille lenke.
Hun kastet seg ut, jeg prøver et minne.
Stille snur jeg oss mellom trær,
teller skritt, lager små, går sakte.
Bakken lang, holder henne tett.
Utenpå vakkert, hva lurer ved skillet?
Inn til ramme, gull og vann.
Meg, et rådyr og alt jeg har glemt.
Setter henne forsiktig, stryker langsomt
over kinn, pels og lemmer.
Hårene løsner jeg må være forsiktig
trekker til meg beina, legger hennes til løp.
De finner hverandre, jeg går i skyggen
det er kaldt og jeg er uten arm
venter i skjul på øyne som åpnes
de løper om kapp for å finne sin plass
hun kaster seg inn og viser dem stillhet
en tungpustet pause, hun blir jaget, oppstykket kastet.
Sorte hender slynger seg langsomt, det puster
Gjennom hud inn i flesk
reiser meg, glir, alt er sort, du er borte.
Ligger tilbake med sløret jeg husker
bak meg synger bruden i støv
ballerinaen med håret klippet, maler sort alt hun ser.
Alene mørkt, hører henne rope
legger øyne over øyne, fester en lykt
må finne henne fort
løper barbeint over jordet
sår, stein, kastes blendet i vannet
leter feberhet, trår galt, finner fotfeste i foss
Forvirret ser jeg henne fastklemt på muren
flagrende, ingenting tilbake
Vi møtes i ett minne og går varsomt tilbake
hun drypper, jeg holder klærne tett.
Over broen ser jeg gjennom greiner
de står uti elva vakre og brutte
kaster igjen det jeg har, henne
legger ut mot fallet
der vaker det best
glemmer å tørke, holde henne varm
Hun tegner et kart, håper andre kan tyde
Tar tak i flukten, den prøver å glippe
gjellene bjeffer og blodet bryter
putter fingeren inn og drar
det er den eneste retning, den stramme
vi svømmer om kapp, jeg husker å puste.
Glemmer bylten med langsom tvilling
grusen logrer seg rundt hennes bein
bloder, det hvite og armen hun har
snegler hun seg gjennom og ut
Jeg sitter på rygg og ser hvor vi er
mot nattens brytende slutt
Så lenge hun maler sine øyne gjennom mine
holder jeg det ut, at ingen finner oss her.
The Absence 2
Throughout the night I sleep slowly and remember
the time I was two and without doubt.
We each had our arm, able to control and triumph
through the city's lights and dangers.
The river that ran through became our quiet link.
She threw herself out, I try a memory.
Quietly I turn ourselves between trees,
count steps make small, walk slowly.
The long hill, holding her tight.
The surface is beautiful, but what is hidden during the separation?
In to the frame, warmth and water.
Me, a deer and everything I have forgotten.
Sitting her gently down, stroking slowly
over cheeks, fur and limbs.
The hair is loose, I have to be careful
pulls my legs, puts hers to running.
They find each other, I walk in the shade
it's cold and I'm armless
waiting in the shadow for eyes that open
they race to find their place
she throws herself in and shows them silence
a heavy breathing, she is chased, the piece thrown.
Black hands are slowly twisting, it is breathing
Through skin into bottle
get up, slip, everything is black, you're gone.
Lying back with the veil I remember
Behind me the bride sings in the dust
the ballerina with her hair cut, black paints everything she sees.
Alone dark, hears her shout
puts eyes over eyes, attaches a lantern
must find her fast
running barefoot across the ground
wounds, stone, thrown dazzled into the water
running in fever, tearing wrong, finding a foothold in the waterfall
Confused, I see her clung to the wall
fluttering, nothing left
We meet in one memory and go back carefully
she drips, I keep my clothes tight.
Over the bridge I look through branches
they stand out in the river, beautiful and broken
throwing away what I have, her
lays out towards the fall
that's the best thing
Forget to dry, just keep her warm
She draws a map, hoping others can interpret
Grabbing the escape, it tries to slip
the gills bark and the blood breaks
put your finger in and go
that is the only direction, it is tight
we swim about racing, I remember breathing.
Forget the slow twin booty
the gravel looms around her legs
blood, the white and the arm she has
she sneaks through and out
I sit on my back and see where we are
towards the breaking end of the night
As long as she paints her eyes through mine
I hold out that no one will find us here.
Talking thoughts along the edge of the bridge,
I sleep in a boat without a roof.
The sea down heavy dip,
sailing ships floating
under all the fog no one sees
Not without love sings his feet
while longingly turning stones
without thinking that what he might find
is too little to carry his cube, his curly
face into the surface of the arch
Kan ikke tas i mot
slenges på et åpent skjær
henges i luften
slås hardt
kroppen slites av
ribbein til side
det puster
etter adskillelsen spør hun
hva vil du ta på nå
han svarer sort
hun gir seg hen
inn og tilbake
øyet retter seg
Jeg legger meg flat foran deg, reiser meg baklengs og løper alt jeg kan mot
skyggen av ordet. Det sprenges ikke. Jeg finner bare deg i det, det maskuline,
det sterke, det ropende istykkerslåtte glass. Jeg vil inn, være der hvor jeg aldri
trengs, men vet jeg forblir ved uvisshetens egg.
Glasset kutter meg langsetter og jeg rives senere ved en passende anledning.
Kjøttet revner, han spiser glupsk , det lukter krydder av frostrøyken
din. Jeg vil inn der, inn i de enorme tankene som holder mørke vann av
dyptgående, langsomme og synkende kuber av tomme rom. Noe lite dirrer i mot. En dus
stråle finner deg.
Det er fullstendig umulig å bli mer konkret. Ingen skjønner det de allerede
vet. Men våge å gå dit..
Finne rytmen som binder oss sammen, opp av havet
inn i fjell og la tåken sverme rundt våre føtter mens vi elsker våre barn høyere enn oss selv.
Pust deg inn, la det strømme en kanal av stille vann, ikke dø uten å ha pustet dypt ned
i ditt eget punkt.
Foto: Morten Arnfred for “Higheway Honey” Loop by Laura / Bjåen Fjellstove.
Last week I had this great visit in the studio! Really fun and wonderful interview by Sørlandets Kunstmuseums curator Marlo Saalmink and the nice team behind Philm Reklame. I´ĺl post some pictures.
I needed to start this day with CocoRosies touch.
Disturbing, heartbreaking beautiful.
The absence of you.
Everything happened so fast that night
We sneaked through the streets, laughed and hold each other close
The cars cut the curbs, you were scared
I laughed, we were high and sometimes looked down
on our expectations, on cobblestones and seeds.
Wild gaze, a hurricane to come
Body moved. Hair, eyes, mouth and clothes
You had never seen the deer, you said
the hoofs and horns. I tasted your words.
I tasted the distance, the differences.
I was waiting for the hurricane.
Though there were only a few low and tender waves.
Slowly, they settled over all the dryness
Warm, friendly and loving. I wanted to stay
Still, the floor hit us so hard, darkness around us.
I looked for my sight, dragged my hands along the ground.
I felt the horns with the flesh of my thumb.
The deer jumped to the roof before the car hit,
windows, glass and wheels everywhere.
The sea struck, sand between nails and clothes that fluttered
I could not find your eyes, your craving for my touch.
He pulled me through
hurrying off, my legs did not meet the ground.
Blood flowed, sweat tore. I was angry and confused
but still, all I could see
was the silent warm absence of you.
Vet ikke hvor
jeg skal starte
så mye nærhet
uten at det er
noen grunn bare
stor plass
