observations of unexpected spectators
Moss, wood, coal, 2,5 m of diameter
Hands of beeswax, metallic structure in suspension in 3 m from the ground
A wooden mandala bases on the naked surface of the ground. It does not keep silent, but gobbles up. The sense of smell is woken by the flavor of the wet rotten, decomposed wood, and by the moss which feeds on it. The decomposed wood is as the meat of the tree. Eggs of spider sleep there and the larvas of insects eat there. Pouring us hands into the fiber which divides, cold and wet, red, fresh, as the meat. The weakened fiber becomes ground, on the top moss believes, widens in the soft and diffuse carpet. The fiber consumed by the water in the fiber consumed by the fire. In the dry and black center, the coal of the wood, the potential material, it is the consumption of the flame, it is the latent energy which waits. What stays of the body of the tree, what stays after the ascent of the smoke; dust and coal.
An egg remains attached in the angle of a room, made by hands, thin hands, instrument of protection, they are not spade, they are not vice, but vase, to take in and contain. The hands of beeswax caress. Internal world of the calmed chrysalis. Faded candle, manhive. No hummings, no honey, but silence. It is an invisible work inside.