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memo 1 —

My room was infused with physical sensations

like when I was coming home after sleeping somewhere else

and I could feel the wood of the floor touching my feet as I entered.

I would take off my clothes and crawl into the armchair

with both my legs resting on the side.

My dress fell on the floor and I would leave it there.

I felt again that my room was a wide field

on which I performed small gestures,

a small square in which I could move plainly.

memo 2 —

I spent the last two days on lake Snagov

in a big house where I rested my intimacy once again.

I woke up and pulled the drapes and there it was —

the shiny surface of the water reflecting everything around it.

The terrain was flat and dry and filled with artificial soil

the air was warm and there were pheasants arising from the bushes.

I stood on the porch with the lake unravelling in front of me

I was wearing white and my hair pulled back in a bun, my features looked very clear

and somewhat luminous

I moved about the dry field sprinkled with gravel and marble

and watched how nature interacted with the concrete

while my camera captured everything in yet another way of reframing

this unsettling field whose identity was no longer apparent.

End