THE SINKING PARENTHESIS
CENTRAL FINE presents: The Sinking Parenthesis
Dec 5th, 2014 - January 30, 2015
Opening Reception December 5, 7 PM-Midnight
The issue of the origin, or origins, cats, superstition, water and silence were present in my last dream. I saw cats asking a male cat to breastfeed them. As if the dad-cat was a mother-cat but the cat had no milk. The kittens were adult cats, feeding from their motherly dad. The cat might be Martin Barre, or a reflection on man-boobs?
Next, Esther and I attempted to cross a small wooden bridge, but then both started jumping on it, bringing it down. We succeeded and fell into a beautiful green lake and swam our way out. Great experience. I think we wanted to sink the bridge, and just swim, but only swim surrounded by broken wood, because the day was stunning. We heard the name of Aimee Bonpland, the French botanist. (Good Plant, if we were to translate it). What’s interesting is that in fact, Bonpland’s last name was a nickname given to him by his grandfather after getting word of his birth in the countryside in France. The nickname became a family name, a captcha and his sign. His origin was retold at the moment of birth. The superstition of words/origins was left unresolved and I woke up. Now, I’m thinking about the sinking of the bridge, and how that action isolated me.
Somehow we wrecked the parenthesis, swimming our way above the surface of abstraction and enjoying the weather. This was really taxing on us, I must say, because in a moment we had to deal with a botanist, sinking a bridge, swimming nicknames, last-names, plants, plans, water and signs. The gesture was a passive aggressive one, but I think we had no choice as the cats aligned to stop us, on the other side of the bridge, fully developed of course, thanks to the milk of their single-dad.