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Somewhere there is a silence

resting between lines.


I never told you, but

when you asked me, I said that famers and

workers in the oil industries are way more creative than artists, because

creativity is to use what you have

to solve things

in a way you have not learned from anyone else, but as a direct result of thinking.

I already knew your problems with understanding things existing outside of categories, or outside of the reach of words, so

I looked at you again, and

from the air, I pulled back all the words I had said

And I whispered:

somewhere there is a silence resting between lines, that

cannot be translated into words

That silence is containing the point from where chaos is visible

And between the lines there is a tree inside of a hole

where even the noisy birds

keep their mouths  shut

Katalogue from Høstutstillingen 2016


I remember


trying to explain what it is like to write in a language that is not mine

I did not have the word for it

I did not know what anyone would call an artificial limb in this language



I decided to call it a strap on penis


If you hold it in your hand for a while, you

will taste it in your mouth. The words, I mean


tasting like gloves


They say that a pipe line is charecterized by the continuation of the hole inside of it. And,

that this hole is following the whole lenght of the pipe. Inside


Liquid influences in the cell structure. Like sound vibrating in the softness of body parts


Broken bones are words


If you keep boiling the water it will all go away


Fingers twisting around tiny pieces of silence


You are sitting in my armchair, and

when you look at me, I

get a glimps of a ignorance or

something cynical in the back of your eye


Like you were almost human




Billedkunst nr 7, 2016


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