“The days of the pilgrimage are over”
∼∼∼∼∼



We feel very little of what we touch, we hear very little of what we listen to. Our retinas no longer need to travel to see, they reside relentlessly in one place against a backdrop of images, seeing very little of what’s there.

You are searching for the absent in the present, you are bringing what is lost to what you see. Wondering how you can move between today and tomorrow. Ear-dropping on the submerged echos and currents of the world as it converses with itself. 

You speak of repetition and of your exhaustion from humming uncannily familiar tunes. You wait for the forgotten to gather and surface again.

Isn’t it all meant to be forgotten?
Can you name that you are yet to encounter? What do you fail to recognise? Why do conflicts rise when realities collide? Why are there no limits to what we are told cannot be changed? Are we actually asking this question? 
They say; what is gained is lost. Obtained knowledge and skill is meant to be forgotten for us to float without obstruction.

As if to hear, we need to trust our immediate experience and judgements based on it.


What can skew our attention to present urgencies, then?

Is there a manual for this? A tool kit of answers?

Could working without means or measures be a method for hearing, feeling, seeing, learning and for remembering?

How do we build a dialectical space that can help in experiencing the influence of elsewhere?