Five Rings, Rui Chafes/Orla Barry (memória)

more info. youtube clip.

Orla Barry
Five Rings
(2006-2011)
voice, text, image de Orla Barry

I remember memory as if it were a memory.
I remember standing outside myself, outside the world.
I remember my brain continually obliterating the words to describe existence.

I remember thinking that thinking is a chameleon,
changing with the conditions that go on around thought.

I remember life without hand cream.

I remember being too full to remember...
I remember recounting,
I remember, remembering without images,
I remember rehearsing memory through voice.
I remember speaking a poetic language.
A language that is removed from speech,
one that does not allow for communication
but for interpretation and reinterpretation.

I remember the colour of the air
and the sun burning throught my clothes.
I remember the brain sunburn.

I rememberlooking for a place where I could extend my thoughts,
but they hung in the air around me.
I remember words leaving my mouth without me.

I remember someone with a fairground style enlightenment.
I remember them saying:
'What does a mirror look like when it is not working?'

I remember when presence started to lead to absence.
I remember overdose cities, where people really thought input always led to output.

I remember the cities stinking air, as warm and smelly as the air from a tire.
I remember not being able to take a joke to the point that it might have gotten funny.
I remember forgetting how to joke.
I remember the blankness.
I remember suspended meaning.
I remember un-framing memory and every image I ever had collapsing into the dark.

I remember loosing the image of the recently departed.
I remember ringing the wrong doorbell and being cornered by the unknown.
I remember a permanent compression of emergy.
I remember a dream that to get married you needed five rings.
I remember someone asking me: 'Can you do something you can't say?'

-
um texto memorável feito em som memorável no espaço onde também corriam imagens, folhas, ondas e traços de luz. um farol. no quinto anel, no mais esconso espaço, um choque de mergulho - assustador e fascinante ao mesmo tempo. a cor azul turquesa e o objecto [still life] no centro. nenhuma imagem traduz a presença. cá fora, um professor jovem tentava explicar a um grupo de adolescentes que a arte contemporânea é inesperada.