something… to build upon



It hurts under my arm pits.
I figure it must be cause of the many screws I’ve been sawing in the most uncomfortable angles. Is neither a good nor a bad thing, the pain; for me it’s a reminder:

• I have some muscles and tendons on the upper side of my rib cage that I didn’t know about; I’m well aware now

• repetitive and intensive movements that we’re not used to might cause strain, leaving a trail through our flesh

• that I have done something, that my energy was worned out putting together something.

In building this structure – that will serve as a painting’s store unit – we’re only using the electric tools for drilling the holes, the rest is all arm-powered. Even so, drilling a hole just below the roof and into a metal beam is… demanding. Sawing, nailing and screwing the wood, repeat mantra Sawing, nailing and screwing the wood and the excess of the screws in the joints, and the excess of the screws in the joints {keep on while wrapping bloody hand}

It’s not the philosophical principle, I could have used a grinding wheel for cutting and trimming the screws but personally I enjoy cutting the steel by hand… it’s a strange sensation or being able, of reverse process, that comes from employing a straightforward tool (metal saw), a technique and human force. Destroying by hand what humans have cast. It has something to do with poetic balance. To saw the wood it’s another nice, buttery ( in comparison) activity through which educate our hands and body ( posture makes big difference) but it’s not really the same, it doesn’t require as sheer force, determination or focus.


Tasks that demand my full attention, where there is no space (should better say time) for thought, for mind’s driftings, for emotions linked to past memories or future projections… strongly enroot me in the present moment; no happiness or joy, no sadness nor sorrow, just this moment, this screw, this saw, my hands, this structure, this host room, this bathing light. The flow of air entering and leaving my body… it accelerates when I’m at full thrust, it gets calmer when I go slower or stop


Here I’ll stop. I did draft some more paragraphs about learning from others’ processes (this one shared with my friend VP), about a group of people undergoing the same experience, also about changes in language and the process of communicating and how it’s being blurred and buried under a deceivingly comforting complexity of sugarcoated euphemisms. But specially I did focus on aesthetics, on the many repercussions derived from building something without an (aesthetic) idea, without a final goal, a closed form to reach, freely, open to randomness, like a drawing happening in the moment…

There are a couple reasons those words are not here; first because I feel the need of more “praxis” (:P) and then to sit on it, integrate and clean whatever scoria concepts are not worthy. Secondly I want to limit my staying in front of the screen to minimum possible =)



About m)◘(x

ni! for now
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