***lump, at Foundation of Smirnov and Sorokin, Moscow

Waking up in the afternoon I didn’t remember the most of the last night and how I appeared to be here. This is a familiar place and things always end up here. May be “here” is just a horizontal position of my body in space. The body which seemed to still be full of joy, however, something has changed. This was not physical heaviness or feeling of guilt. It felt like something foreign was inside me. I didn’t know which part of my body it was in, it was rather everywhere. Although it was far smaller then this “everywhere”. It pierced me from head to toe like a steel rod. It was undestroyable but I felt I could loose it easily. Just one clumsy movement of a thought and everything could fall apart like a house of cards, transforming into a plane surface which is not possible to deal with. You can not look at the the plane from every side you want, it has only one side and at the moment it obviously wasn’t it’s advantage.

I was still full of energy spreading my arms to the sides and doing some strange manipulations with my fingers as if I could change everything around by doing this. However, nothing was drawing my attention and I didn’t know where exactly to direct my energy. I could choose any direction and I even wanted to rush into some process but I was concerned that if choose a wrong direction this steel rod will tear me apart from inside staying at it’s previous spot, behind me. I remembered how easily I used to succumb to a call to join a process but it was always ending at a halfway and I knew that the rod torn a part of myself and rested where it was. Unbearable heavyness was falling down on my shoulders and was requiring of me to get back in a horisontal position or in a position which I can now define as “here”. Meanwhile the rod and the strenght was inside me the best I could do was to make myself continue sleeping. Sleeping, as I don’t know the right direction. Sleeping, as it is the best way to get rid of the steel rod discretely and painlessly. Falling asleep I won’t notice it dissolving and loosing it’s weight. It will become flexible and obedient just until the moment when something inside me makes it hard again.

– Arthur Golyakov, 2019

29.10 – 1.11.19

Arthur Golyakov, Stas Lobachevskiy, Vladimir Omutov

Photo: Ilya Smirnov