PART 1 : MARKET SQUARE, Vaasa, June 2022
Details of exploration:
Prompt: This phase of exploration was initiated by the prompt Say it Again.
Below are the various 'scores' or series of prompts that were used for structuring an experiment in collective writing in public space, for activating a process of timed writing/reading together in Market Square, Vaasa, in conjunction with an agreed pattern of movement. The 'choreography' or movement pattern of this practice, involved gradually moving from the centre of the square to the periphery/perimeter and back towards the centre. Specific positions/locations could be moved or changed during the practices. To the right is documentation of this exploration, alongside the texts generated through engaging with each 'score' or 'prompt'
PROMPT/SCORE 1
Invitation/prompt: A period of writing in response to the prompt Say it Again.
Location/Position: Centre of the square, choosing which direction to face.
Duration: 30 minutes writing.
PROMPT/SCORE 2
Invitation/prompt: A second period of writing in response to the prompt Say it Again.
Location/Position: Centre of the square, facing towards each other.
Duration: 20 minutes writing.
PROMPT/SCORE 3
Invitation/prompt: Pass the last sentence of your writing onto the person next to you in a clockwise direction by reading it to them aloud. This sentence becomes the starting point for their next phase of writing.
Location/Position: Centre of the square, gathering in a circle.
PROMPT 4:
Invitation/prompt: Writing in response to the prompt Say it Again, but beginning with the other’s last sentence as a starting point.
Location: Beginning to disperse away from the centre of the square.
Duration: 20 minutes of writing.
Prompt 5:
Invitation/prompt: Gather in the centre of the square and read what you have just written. Allow spaces for silence and for listening to the others’ reading.
Location/Position: Centre facing towards each other
Duration: As long as it takes.
PROMPT 6:
Invitaton/prompt: Pass the last sentence of your writing onto the person next to you in a anticlockwise direction by reading it to them aloud. This sentence becomes the starting point for their next phase of writing.
Location/Position: Centre of the square, gathering in a circle.
PROMPT 7:
Invitation/prompt: Writing in response to the prompt Say it Again, but beginning with the other’s last sentence as a starting point.
Location/Position: Towards the periphery of the square.
Duration: 20 minutes of writing.
PART 2 : IN THE STUDIO
Details of exploration:
An exploration for structuring an experiment in collective reading. Working with our texts generated in response to the prompt, Say it Again, we spent time in the studio exploring how to create a circulating structure for a reading practice, where the last line of one person's reading would be picked up as the first line of anothers.
PART 3 : RECORDING
[Headphones recommended for listening to the recordings]
To the right, we present a short sound work of the texts generated in response to the prompt, Say it Again, edited using a circular model that we had developed in the studio.
PROMPT 7:
Location/Position: Towards the periphery of the square.
Duration: 20 minutes of writing.
Action/Invitation: Writing in response to the prompt Say it Again, but beginning with the other’s last sentence as a starting point.
PROMPT 3: Pass the last sentence of your writing onto the person next to you in a clockwise direction by reading it to them aloud. This sentence becomes the starting point for their next phase of writing.
PROMPT 6:
Location/Position: Centre of the square, gathering in a circle
Invitaton: Pass the last sentence of your writing onto the person next to you in a anticlockwise direction by reading it to them aloud. This sentence becomes the starting point for their next phase of writing.
PROMPT 1: ARTEFACTS/DOCUMENTS
Invitation: A period of writing in response to the prompt Say it Again.
Location/Position: Centre of square, choosing which direction to face.
Duration: 30 minutes writing.
PROMPT/SCORE 2
Invitation: A second period of writing in response to the prompt Say it Again.
Location/Position: Centre of the square, facing towards each other.
Duration: 20 minutes writing.
PROMPT 4:
Action/Invitation: Writing in response to the prompt Say it Again, but beginning with the other’s last sentence as a starting point.
Location: Beginning to disperse away from the centre of the square.
Duration: 20 minutes of writing.
Prompt 5:
Invitation: Gather in the centre of the square and read what you have just written. Allow spaces for silence and for listening to the others’ reading.
Location/Position: Centre of the square.
Duration: As long as it takes.
Collective reading of writing generated in response to the score, Say it Again.
Duration: 24min, 52sec.
Text: SAY IT AGAIN (PASSING ON)
How: Someone begins reading one of the texts written from the series Say it Again. The last sentence that they read will have previously been passed on to another writer (as part of a score earlier in the week) to be the starting point for a further phase of writing. If another person recognises this line, they should then start their text — which should begin with a repetition of the previous person’s final sentence. Continue the chain of relations until reaching a stop, then start a new chain of relations.
The moss and lichen inhabit the empty spaces of the square. Moss fills the empty squares. In the gaps and crevices there is moss and other plant life. What ecosystems emerge in the gaps and crevices between the cobbles on the square?
There are squares within squares.
I look at a square cobble and around it moss and plants grow. Much as the cafes and passersby gather at the edges of the square.
The surface of the cobble stays clear. For each cobble, the surface remains clear. At times marked by scratches or traces of things passing over, but largely empty of activity. The life gathers as the edges, there is life at the edges.
Water gathers around the edges of the cobbles, creating environments for things to live and thrive.
What are the conditions of living and for thriving?
What do we need as environmental conditions in order to live and to thrive?
Why might the gaps and crevices create conditions for life to thrive?
Undisturbed. Untouched by footfall, or the tread of passing cars. The greenest gaps are at the centre of the square. Yes, the greenest gaps and crevices are towards the centre of the square.
Whole habitats emerge in the crevices and the gaps between the stones.
Sandy beaches and quartz gleam.
Shards of glass and starfish-shaped grasses.
The surface of the stone is smooth.
A patterned surface of grey-blue and pinkish hues. A stormy sky.
Constellations of bird excrement and the black ash of cigarettes stubbed.
Small pebbles become like boulders.
And what if no-one walked again on the square? Would the small plants eventually grow into trees and forests?
Beneath the pavement, the beach — I am reminded of the Situationist slogan. I see beaches in the crevices and the gaps, emerging forests and quartz gleam of crystals. Shining. Shimmering. Quartz flecks in the gaps, cut to touch, and sharp to finger. Like a gritty eye.
The sun is becoming warmer. My shadow joins the pattern on the floor, of oil spills and scraped traces.
The stones are completely irregular in size — each has been cut by hand and then assembled into the square to make this single surface. The flat surface of the square is a patchwork of hand-cut rock and labour.
The labour of the square. All this labour, all this cutting of stone and rock. All this movement of materials.
Sound is the pulse of this space — passing through.
This seems to be a place for passing through, not for lingering, not for living.
This is a space for talking in twos.
This is a space for taking a short cut to the shops.
This is space for parking.
The centre of the space remains empty of life.
Say it again.
The centre is empty of life.
Say it again.
The centre of the square is lifeless.
Say it again.
There is life only at the edges of the square.
Say it again.
Life animates the edges.
There is no movement at the centre.
There is stillness at the centre.
The centre is still.
Still is the centre of the square.
There is a stillness.
There is no stillness at the edges of the square.
The centre is still.
The margins are animate.
The edges move.
There is movement only at the edges.
Moving edges.
Moving around the edges.
Wind moves in the centre of the square.
Wind animates the centre.
There is no life at the centre.
It is cooler at the centre of the square.
There is shelter at the edges of the square.
We are alive at the centre of the square.
We animate the centre of the square.
We are still in the centre of the square.
We still the centre of the square.
There is a stilling at the centre.
We are still at the centre.
We are stilling the centre.
We draw life into the centre.
We draw attention to ourselves.
We draw attention.
We call attention.
We are calling attention to the centre of the square.
We focus our attention on the centre.
We are the centre of attention.
We are centring our attention.
We have centred attention.
Our attention is centred.
We are a centre of attention.
We centre attention on the centre.
Centring of attention.
Centred attention.
The centre of attention.
Centring attention.
Creating a centre of attention.
Drawing of attention.
Inattentive edges.
Inattentive to the edges.
Inattention to the edges, focuses the attention.
Centred in the centre.
Centring of the square.
Finding a centre in the square.
Inhabiting the centre.
Stilling the centre creates attention.
Centring stills.
Centring calls the attention.
Stillness call attention.
Movement at the edges.
Stillness at the centre.
Sounding of the edges.
Silence at the centre.
Sounded edges, silent centre.
Silencing the centre.
Sounding the silence of the centre.
Sounding the stillness of the centre.
The emptiness of the centre.
Writing the emptiness of the centre.
Writing the emptiness of the stillness.
Writing the attention of the centre.
Writing of a centred attention.
Writing as a centring of attention.
Writing as a stilling of the centre.
Writing stills the centre.
Writing centres the attention.
Writing attends to the centre.
Writing from the centre.
Writing the centre.
Soft centred.
Softening the centre.
Writing softens the centre.
Softening attention to the centre.
Attention softens the emptiness of the centre.
Softening attention towards the emptiness of the centre.
Softening the centre of attention.
Softly, centred attention.
Soft centred attention.
Warm attention.
Warming of attention.
Warm is a softened attention.
Soft is a warmed attention.
A sentence written, given away, rewritten, given away, around the world
The gift of a sentence written.
To give a gift away.
To rewrite the sentence.
A sentence written.
Is a sentence only ever written?
Can full sentences be also spoken?
A written sentence that is then spoken.
Was it a sentence?
I begin before I know how the sentence will end.
I begin without knowing the end, I begin in the middle.
A sentence may be written, but is it written first in thought?
Is it?
I hear a faint echo of the words in my mind, an echoing before they are written, shortly begore I write them down.
My pen somehow tries to follow, tries to keep up, tries to keep pace.
I do not know where this will lead. I follow the letters until they become sentences.
The sentence gives itself.
The sentence is given.
I give in to the sentence.
I give to the sentence.
Language gives and a sentence appears.
In the give of language, an unexpected opening emerges.
I give time to language, and in turn language gives.
Give or give.
To give as in a gift.
To give as in to slacken.
Language slackens, opens up to a new beginning, a sentence gives, it is given away.
To give away as in ownership, as in possession
But how to give away that which was never owned.
How is it to give away that which was never yours, never a belonging.
Language a non-belonging.
The non-belonging of language.
To not belong in language.
To not hold to language as if a belonging.
Belonging as in feeling at home.
Belongings as in what one owns.
To give away.
A give away — to reveal the secret, or to give away as in to disown.
At some points, the rows of cobble stones meet each other on an angle, this is repeated in several places.
In some places individuals meet each other at an angle, leaning in to the other better or to share a secret, or exchange a moment of gossip.
Some lean in, others lean out.
I lean against the post to support the writing.
Angles of encounter, angles of relation and of meeting points.
Walking as an angle of encounter between foot and floor.
Angle of the ankle and the knee, of articulating joints.
Repeated encounter of body and ground, over and over.
Attend to these encounters:
Heal to toe, body leaning slightly back, mild extension of the back.
Body curled over, flexion of the spine.
Lateral lean to the side, a limping approach to others.
Crossed legs, testing the angle, joint of the knee.
Meet each other at an angle.
This is repeated in several places.
How might one meet the other at an angle — tangentially, interruptedly?
To meet the other at an angle — to cut in, to interrupt, headlong, from the side.
To meet another at an angle, from the side, also adjacent.
Towards adjacency, to be adjacent. To meet alongside.
To meet alongside, to be side by side.
Side by side, as a kind of solidarity.
Side by side, in time and/or in space.
The cobbles are side by side, together they make up the square.
We are side by side, together we make the unit, the group, the collective.
Do our attentions meet side by side?
Is our side-by-side-ness only as an visible action — or in the quality of our attention?
Am I side-by-side you or to the side?
I am writing near but I am near to your attention?
Where are you when you write?
How near does one need to be in order to really be side-by-side?
I am by your sides, or are you to the side?
Am I to the side, besides?
Besides.
Be-sides.
Besides as in — in addition to, next to, alongside.
How is the difference between besides and alongside?
What difference makes the “be” or the “along”?
Along, a-long.
A long side.
How long to be besides?
Do I have to see you to be besides, to be alongside?
Alongside-ness as a togetherness, even if we are apart.
Besides.
Besides — a sense of the incidental.
Next to, near to, proximate.
Adjacent.
Solidarity in adjacency.
The adjacency of the cobbles.
But the cobbles are not really meeting, for between them is green and glass and sand.
Between each cobble, always a gap or margin, always a space between.
No touch in the cobbles, no meet, no contact made, only sand, and grass, and glass, and dust touching. Touch of dust and sand. Is that the same for all encounters — no touch, only even the dust of gap?
ROUND 1
CD 1:
ENDING: A sentence written, given away, rewritten, given away, around the world
EC 2:
STARTING: A sentence written, given away, rewritten, given away, around the world
ENDING: A give-away as in "to reveal a secret", or to give away as in "to disown”
CD 3:
STARTING: A give-away as in "to reveal a secret", or to give away as in "to disown”
ROUND 2
VS 1:
ENDING: Shadows are deep and sharp
ACB 2:
STARTING: Shadows are deep and sharp
ENDING: To be a shadow deep without depth, sharp without edge
VS 3:
STARTING: To be a shadow deep without depth, sharp without edge
ROUND 3
LS 1:
ENDING: The crow shouts with two syllables
VS 2:
STARTING: The crow shouts with two syllables
ENDING: Foot forward one at the back laughter
LS 3:
STARTING: Foot forward one at the back laughter
ROUND 4
EC 1:
ENDING: All this labour all this cutting of stone and rock always movement of material.
LS 2:
STARTING: All this labour all this cutting of stone and rock always movement of material.
ENDING: At some points, the rows of cobble stones meet each other on an angle, this is repeated in several places
EC 3:
STARTING: At some points, the rows of cobble stones meet each other on an angle, this is repeated in several places
ROUND 5
ACB 1:
ENDING: Again two legs, again two arms, two feet, a pen and a notebook
CD 2:
STARTING: Again two legs, again two arms, two feet, a pen and a notebook
ENDING: What is the resolution of your writing? / Are you dissolving when you write?
ACB 3:
STARTING: What is the resolution of your writing? / Are you dissolving when you write?
10:29am — 18°
Space and place. One becomes the other, and then back again. When a space becomes a place there is wonder, the feeling of something happening. When a place becomes a space two things happen (or can happen):
The first, is a space for- the space is attached to an use. The second one, the place no longer exists, it’s gone, it has lost its purpose.
Is a space always a space, but a place not always a place?
(A man approached Lena and was speaking to her. He asked “what are you doing?” in Finnish language “Mitä menneet? ← not pronounced like that and not sure if that is what he asked)
Why are squares and explanadas made?
It’s a public space that can be used for different things, but it kind of seems an odd place.
What are the things that one can do in a “public” space such as the square?
Walking, strolling, running, looking, sitting, eating, drinking, talking, thinking, hugging, kissing, standing, smiling, encountering, searching, meeting, losing, buying, riding, writing, reading, arriving, leaving, waiting, partying, fighting, loving, speaking, singing, screaming, enjoying, suffering, falling, jumping, stretching, bending, carrying, parking, finding, listening, sleeping, waking up, laying down, kneeling, rolling, asking, working.
Zócalo . “es un basamento, una estructura que sirve como cuerpo o borde inferior de una obra o como pedestal para erigir alguna construcción” — “proyecto arquitectónico sin terminar”
*
Caminar, correr, andar, acostarse, levantarse, hablar, gritar, jugar, trabajar, comer, beber, esperar, perder, encontrar, mirar, escuchar, escribir, comprar, gastar, tomar el sol, platicar, contar, esconder, ganar, fiestar, leer, vomitar, descansar, andar en bicicleta, estacionar el coche, buscar, brincar, hincarse, dormir, despertar, disfrutar, sufrir, confundir, prestar atención, reflexionar, investigar, olvidar, dibujar, pintar, estirar, manifestar, preguntar, responder.
The idea of a “zócalo” has always made me wonder what the purpose of a main square is. In México we call the main squares “Zócalo”. This word in architecture means “a structure that serves as a body or interior delimitation where one will erect a structure”.
Although main squares are not always made to build structures made out of concrete, wood, metal or stone, they are built to present the opportunity of things happening there. Social structures unfolding.
What is the resolution of your writing? Are you dissolving when you write?
“What is the resolution of your writing?” she asked. We stood in the middle of the vast market square in Vaasa while she whispered closely her question. The word resolution, in German, is also related to “dissolve” she mentioned. Following her question with another “Are you dissolving when you write?” I thanked her, and she walked away. I turned around and walked the opposite direction to find shelter within the steps of the monument.
Who is the one writing? If there is an I, and the I dissolves, what or who is left? The text, language, writing perhaps? As I write I’m no longer. I no longer am. There is no room for me and the text being written. There is only the text and language. Until there is no more language, the pen leaves the paper, the sight abandons the text and wanders around observing the surroundings.
Then, I am again. I regained my body. A body that occupies a space, a body that is seen. A body that is loud in presence, and so, the text is no longer the subject. The writing, the text, and I.
How many times do we dissolve in a day? How many times do we find ourselves yet again, not knowing how we got there. Sometimes it would seem that this disappearing act could last for years, or decades. We never know when we will see ourselves again.
When writing, this act of disappearance is timeless. Yes, we can count in minutes for how long we have been dissolving. But when writing, while in the text, that’s another time measure that would seem in a way immeasurable. When writing, we are gone from place and time, and thoughts just are.
13h - 21°
Say it again
And then I’m (we) are at it, again. Again at the square. Again standing, again writing, again observing, again listening, again listing, again thinking, again trying not to think, again listening to the seagulls, the ambulance, the “barullo”, the wind, the wind crashing in the ears, being most of the time ignored, but not in the square. In the square everything is. A car parked is not just “a car parked” but a car parked in the square. A seagull squawking is not just squawking , it is squawking in the square. Falling is not just a fall, it’s a fall in the square.
Again and again changing how I hold the notebook, the pen, how the wind pushes the paper. Again and again moving the feet, the ankles, stretching and moving trying to avoid the pain and stiffness that comes with standing, with the weight, with gravity.
Again being aware of the others, looking, waiting, witnessing the weather move and transform while I (we) stand in the square.
Again finding the writing in a place of stand by, waiting to find a direction. Waiting to find itself, waiting to move, to walk and settle until it becomes something.
Time, again, time that haunts and chases the text.
Again, finding and losing and writing. Again in the square, again, here, again now; again two legs, again two arms, two feet, a pen and a notebook.
Shadows are deep and sharp they cut areas and define places, shapes, forms. Bidimensional beings that lurk next to their masters to never leave them. That is, until in some parts of the western hemisphere at the strike of mid-day all shadows get a holiday. They leave the side of their creators to become them, to be shadows no more.
To be a shadow, a soft companion following you around offering some shelter to the surfaces from the sun.
To be a shadow and wait the moment until shadow and object intersect.
To be a shadow and wait till another shadow comes and visits, merging into a new entity, transforming into a new being.
To be a shadow, deep without depth, sharp without edge.
At some points, the rows of cobble stones meet each other on an angle, this is repeated in several places
(LS > EC)
Muuta kulta – ja hopeasi neesi rahaksi täällä.
täällä
ää
Two vowels, a place for each eye to rest upon.
ä ä
Umlaute, two dots on each one.
Wie Wimpern.
Augen so wimperlich.
Sei nicht so!
Man hat sich darauf geeinigt, besser so zu sein als so. Eben nicht loszuschreien, wenn man nichts zu verkaufen hat auf diesem Platz oder kein Screen ist. Nicht zu laut zu weinen, nicht so zimperlich zu sein im Allgemeinen, wenn man Schmerzen hat oder an Krieg denkt.
Es ist eine Sache in der Öffentlichkeit zu weinen, eine andere laut zu weinen.
It is one thing to cry in public, another thing to cry out loud.
Erwachsene, die auf öffentlichen Plätzen weinen. To be adult as in ‘erwachsen’. To be outgrown of what. Sometimes I see an outgrown person with water running from the inner corner of their eyes.
I miss a market place for public crying. A place to trade sunglasses against sorrows. E-scooters against slowness. (Let’s not make a list. I’m fed up with lists. The sheer enumeration of things, cheap receipt for helpless poetry. Aus der Hilflosigkeit keines Satzes heraus, der Welt nicht anders beizukommen als mit Komma, Komma, Komma ohne Körper. Also komm schon Satz. Make a sentence! Was willst du uns verkaufen? What would you screem out?
Once upon a time on a place named Kauppatori, which also translates as Weinplatz or Screemplace to be found on maps or if you ask a person, an Indian colleague living in Helsinki told me that Fins can be asked, they seem not to be bothered by the passer-by, not even when they ask in English, they will stop and explain you the way, that what has been agreed upon is a place to be filled with water from the corner of an eye or more. A place to exist anywhere or when something needs to be screemed. (Let’s leave out the content.)
Was vereinbart wurde:
- Eine Statue für einen Vogel
- Gebäude an drei Seiten
- Ein Scream, bedienbar von allen Anwesenden
- „Ich fühle mich wie -40%.“
- Ein Silbertablett in Treppenform auf dem Menschen serviert werden, für diejeningen, die gerade einen Menschen brauchen
- Ein rosaner Elektroroller programmiert in den nächsten Fluss to fahren
- Ein Waffelstand ohne Puderzucker
Again two legs, again two arms, two feet, a pen and a notebook. Nochmal zwei Beine, nochmal zwei Arme, zwei Füße, ein Stift und ein Notizbuch.
Ein öffentlicher Schreibverein. Öffentliches Schreiben in Notizbücher. Werbung für Schreiben mit Stiften. (Lassen wir die Frau mit der Sonnebrille auf dem Screen einmal heraus.) Schreiben im Stehen, im Gehen, auf Knien. Von anderen geschrieben werden. Wo stehen. Das steht da. Die steht da. Das was dasteht hergeben, sich gegenseitig weiterschreiben.
Wie Schreiben Fotografieren. Mit welcher Auflösung schreibst Du? Löst Du dich auf beim Schreiben? Von einem Wort zum anderen kommen. Kommt der Platz nicht zu Wort. Der Stadtschreiber wird dafür bezahlt, gefälligst das aufzuschreiben, was in der Stadt passiert und nicht in ihm. Der Fotograf wird dafür bezahlt, die Schreiber zu fotografieren, die ihm sagen, fotografier uns nicht, sondern das Schreiben.
Am I hiding when I speak German?
To give-away, as in ‘to reveal a secret’, or to give away as in ‘to disown’.
Weggeben, im Sinne von ein Geheimnis aufdecken, oder weggeben, im Sinne von enteignen. Weggeben, im Sinne ‚von einen Weg geben‘, oder weggeben im Sinne von ‚Eigentum wegtun‘.
Weg geben, im Sinne von, ‚der Satz geht hier nicht weiter, sondern anderswo.‘
To write as in ‘to reveal or to conceal something’.
A writerly give-away. A writer that gives themselves away.
A sentence found on a cobble. Taken up and exchanged into a coffee, into the secrets of a stomach, into pee, into water to a tree.
SAY IT AGAIN
Zócalo = Sockel. Komm von deinem Sockel herunter.
Jemand hat einen rosa Elektroroller mitten auf dem Platz abgestellt, offenbar hatte das GPS nichts dagegen. Was hat eine Statue mit einem Elektroroller gemeinsam?
Writing = making impossible equations.
Liberating the socle from its statue. A free socket. What kind of liberty do we need? How would your statue look like? A sentence written, given away, rewritten, given away, travelling the world.
Säg det igen
30 min i torgets mitt
10.30 - 11.00
Vi skribenter, noterare det står vända mot mitten av torget. Fyra i en öppen båge vända mot samma håll, en vänd mot oss. Vad kan jag säga igen? Vad är redan sagt? Vad behöver upprepas?
Blir uppsökt av en person som frågar om jag språkar finska. Hen frågar: Vad vi gör? Är vi hemliga agenter?
Vad kan jag säga – vi skriver ner det vi uppfattar på torget. Skriver istället för att fotografera. Det är en omöjlig uppgift.
Ahaa; de utvecklar.
En av oss skriver bokstavligen på torget bokstavligen. Häftet ligger på marken. Hen böjer sig över häftet i en skrivande gest.
Det ser ut som en muslimsk bön, säger personen.
Svarar att det ser ut som att häftet behöver läggas på något för att kunna ta emot orden.
Ja efter skrivandet kan ni ju ta en kaffe. Det finns våfflor, sylt och vispad grädde och så.
Jag tänker att de har sett oss från torgkaféet. En grupp har diskuterat vårt görande.
Vi blir påmind om möjligheten till urinvägsinformationen nej alltså urinvägsinflammation.
Vi har sittunderlag.
Vi står med ojämna mellanrum i något som liknar en stor cirkel.
Nu går två personer igenom denna cirkel, vi är här.
En grupp förskolebarn. Deras röster är starka.
Nej kom tillbaka.
Rock n Roll hojtas upprepande gånger.
Hör ni nu ska ni komma ihåg att det finns annat folk här också
Vi ska inte skrika
Nu kommer alla barnen hit och sätter sig.
Ljudet lägger sig
En kan gå tvärs över torget i olika formationer.
Barnen går två och två i rad klädda i färgstarka västar.
Score: Say it again — with the received sentence
21° C // 13:37
to be a shadow, deep without depth, sharp without edge
like signs of hunger giving rise to the capacity to eat, the will to march
what brings happiness: a massage, grilled eggplant, sugar, salt, sex, clothes, conversations,
beauty, ability, learning capacity
the moving of a vehicle
a wedge can stop a vehicle
usually for chairs, two tables
small bags
youngsters prevent heat by saving the small portions of heat from the Sun
how to stop feeling sluggish
the writing of texts
red chairs
D exit
Score: Say it again — with the received sentence
21° C // 13:15
a crow shouts with two syllables
is it now forming a sentence?
and is it now in a conversation?
and has it become a meditative now?
is a seagull’s language monosyllabic?
smells of fried food
familiar language
a couple walking
calm muscles
a massage
onlooker
questions
singers
blue, white t-shirts
minding one’s business
being busy
looking busy
busying the other
leaning
need for support
rolling up looking serious
meditative
the young
their shoes
their gait
balancing sleep
contrast, not busy, not easy
yawning, jolting
scribbling
the sound of the bicycle ringing, cyclists and
the balancing of weight
the balancing of the movement
one foot forward, one at the back, laughter
Score: Say it again & pass the last sentence
21° C // 13:00
rustling of a plastic bag
it holds
the wheel moves the weight
the starting of the engine
chatter, unloading the sound of an ambulance
two friends catch up
someone walks wearing red shoes
crow hops forward
the wind is gentle
being in the marketplace is like being in the sea
morning
moving of a car
the stalls
loading the carrier of a bicycle
smelling of deep-frying
the flapping of wings
cacophony
seagulls congregate
cars facing the wind
crow over a speaker
moving photographer
sitting body
setting up of chairs
uneven ground
hairy legs
season of the shorts
sleep coming over
set of flowers next to the set of shoes
speeds of walking could be information to map the square
the sun is back
shadows are deep and sharp
17° C // 10:30 a.m.
sunlit morning
a broken piece of paper
shadows of people walking
handles
crevices
white socks and white shoes
Jaffa bottle in hand
Jaffa is in Palestine
where they grow oranges
dusty orange building
neon orange sign
illustrations of hamburgers have orange buns
skin burns and turns orange
orange phlegm
orange reflectors in the bicycle tires
pink shirt
pink ice cream
orange cone
red strawberry
red chairs
red coats
red sale
green chairs
green coat
green bag
green lettuce bleaches into yellow
Say it again
17° C // 10:45 a.m.
a comb on the ground
black comb
wind passes through the comb
someone is eating ice cream
crouching body
standing bodies
speakers on the left pole
orange jacket of the child
watchers, stalkers, observers, pedestrians
sitters, drinkers, writers, eaters
chatters, laughers, movers, reflectors
visitors, passers, slowers, hustlers
planners, cautioners, groupers, shoppers
returners, vagauers, singers, take-overs
quarters, creamers, coasters, teachers
refractors, defaulters, deflectors, trainers,
tours, casters, shiners, bankers
savers, openers, closers, flowers
gutters, fritters, scammers,
quarter, settlers, one-leggers, two-leggers
turners, finders, shimmers, glitters
tighters, befrienders, cigarette-butters, pickers
snackers, bickers, flickers, spitters