Sabina Holzer, for Sci-Fi Lullaby / First Tunes
December 2018

It was a dream that brought us here. It was a dream of a space. A dream of space and time that brought us here. Brought us. Brothers and sisters. Ssss Space .. was a gathering. A gathering in this space. A gathering this gay gathering. A gay gathering. Happily we all were coming together. Getting together in a happy gathering.

There was this we. A wave of a we. A We wave. A we weaving. And she. She was a stranger. In this dream. Her I had a strange dream. Her I was welcome. But strange. A strange being. As always. As running away. As a stranger from far away. A far away stranger. Coming from far. A running stranger. Suddenly being here. Her I was here. What did eye hear? What did ear hear. What taste taste. Smell quell. And the skin? Eye and ear very listening. To all these lists and listings and lines and crimes. The eye of the ear was part of this. Asking. What. Asking. The skin. The eye of the skin felt the space. Like a trace. Full of traces and places and times. All around. Like the skin. The skin eye could feel this gathering. This forgathering. This forgetting. Forgetting to get something.

Her skin eye extended. Never ended. We don’t know where. We were here and not here at the same time. Then it started. Something started to speak. And suddenly got a face. And again. Another voice. A voice. A void. A volume started to speak. And got a face. With the phrase came the face. Only with a phrase the other got a face. In this phase of existence. Poeple and things were becoming, when they spoke. When they started to speak they were becoming. They got a face. With the phrase. They become a phrase. Like music. They become a song. Singing faces. — What is a face? A surface with wholes. Different reflections of light. A never ending glowing darkness. These surfaces and places. With some reflections. And ions shining. Something started to shine sometime. A movement. A reflex. A reflection. Can collect. A collective reflection.

In this space. In this cave. This square cave. Made of stones and bones. And earth. And ore. And was it her, who was standing there. A stranger. In this cave. Captured by a dream. Of the stones. Of bones. Of stones that would carry her. Would care about her. So she gave voice to her souls. The soles of her feet she was standing on. With her bones on the stones. Hi stone. Where is your I? Where do you come from? How long are you here? What did you see? What did you hear? Where you here when it happened? Where you touched by the souls? Tired souls. Happy souls. Where they dirty, bloody, filthy, or fine and soft? Where they happy to find you as a solid ground to step on. Touching you with the soles of their feet. Coming from far away. Coming from the sea. Did you see them? This strange soles. These strange somethings. They are everywhere. Everywhere. Also here we you stand. Where you ly and lean. Where you sink and rise. And shine. And try to build a life, although so much life is all around. …