This house

You move.
You move me very much. You really move me very much. You really move.

You feel like full of beauty. Full of wildness. Full of depth shining through your surfaces.

You don’t smile all the time. You also don’t look angry or aggressive. 
Your look and color changes with the light.

You do not pretend to be natural. You are merciless. You make me feel my fragile nature. Constructing such a you makes you fragile, too, I guess. You double you. Multiple you. You take my breath away. You suck me through a time tunnel. Connected with so many things. Things much lager, more sustainable.
 I exists just as a trace. The stories of you are full of violence and full of grace.

You grow from the earth. You come from the water. Like a planet, like stardust. Like human nature you are. You are not romantic. You are mathematical and full of dreams. You keep your meanings fluid and precise. You throw my senses open.

You want me. You make me cry. You carve traces. You make me crave to surrender. You want everything. But never too much. You are a never-ending a mirror. With never-ending reflections of the constitution of my soul. This is how you make me feel.

You make me feel transpersonal. You explode my constitution. You connect me with the past I want to get rid off, – but never can – and with nature to console me. With you the dead are living. With you that what I call dead matter reveals its breath. You are square as nature never would choose to be. You are take the squareness of my mind to remind me it is boon and bane.

You drive me mad with all these things and matters. Matters of soul, matters of thought, matters of fluids, matters of tensities. Matters of reflection, matters of light, matters of darkness. Matters of history and the matters of future. You are his- and herstory. You are the absent woman.

You ask, what do you want? You say, you know I am leaking, I am a loosing without choosing, I am a tingle-tangle angle. 

You are a broken clown. You are not yet falling. You are crumbling and rising at the same time.

Like me. Every morning when my soul has touched the darkness of the spirits. When my body was visceral and imagination traveled to connect different layers of existence. When my mind did not yet have the image of the body, not yet an image to form this matter to one of human kind. In these schemes of shadows we have met again and again.
You remind me of kindness and wildness. You give no image. You give funny names. You escape and remain. You let me enter to send me away. To embrace sensorial

From: Stroll through the house, the place. Follow light and shadow, sounds, smells, sensations. Pay attention to the shifting of weight in your body when walking and standing. Forget everything else. Scores by Sabina Holzer developed in the Domenig House for durch:formen in 2018