The house was created so that at any given moment she could enter a room
and recollect something new, something forgotten. She would store her
memories there, so she could return to them another time.
Each room inside the house becomes a slide within a slideshow. Some images
reveal parts of herself too private to show, and yet there they are
projected onto the screen. Centered and enlarged for all to see. The
presence of the spectator is constantly consciously felt.
She needs her rooms. To let them go would be to destroy a part of herself.
And so she finds the need to return to them, often. As she enters one room
an overwhelming fealing of loss fills up the inside of her body. Stop. She
changes the slide and leaves the room.
In another room she sees the reflection of her purple turtleneck sweater in
the window on the back door. It is in the image of herself that she
remembers she was promised something that never became. Is this the room of
deceit? Or of knowing.
As she moves up the stairs she notices a pink puddle on the
grayish/brownish carpet. Pepto Bismol.
Each room, another memory. Each slide another recollection. Every mark a
year survived. Proof of her existence.
Tina LaPorta
http://www.wintermute.aec.at/traces
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