White 2011

The landscape there is so white that you’re tending to think you’ve become blind. The nights are consuming your heart while you are observing them; the dreams are transparent, probably being reflected by the cold. Above all, there’s omnipresence, immobilizing fear, freezing loneliness… It’s a mental geography, far from the warm homeland while my legs are inserted in its ground. I’m peeling my face, the exact line of the eyes, the jaw structure and the color of the skin. A slow and patient peeling, like of an apple, removing the time and place of the here and now so you can see what goes inside, you can wander around this geography that is me.

A Trio for two dancers and a tent.