notes on sculpture

Notes on Sculpture (2020)

Sculpture was born. Sculpture soon realized, that even though she was born, she had been dead the entire time, she had existed. Since death is her, there is nothing particular for her to await.

There is no death to come, no death to overcome, there is only a continious unfolding of death and hence, the ever-becoming actuality of Sculpture herself.

Sculpture is unfolding in the sphere which she is continously born into.

The action of excavation or unearthing of her latent actuality, is a processual rupturing in the realms of the imaginary field called Nekropolis.

Since it may be uneasy to grasp how actually Sculpture is,
 I can tell you something, I do know about her:

Sculpture has no I.
Sculpture is omni.
Sculpture is not an object, nor a thing.
Sculpture is touching.
Sculpture is murmuring.
Sculpture is eroticism.
Sculpture is at stake.
Sculpture knows no dimension.
Sculpture confronts us with the vulgarity of being human.
Sculpture will not exist before you, she unfolds herself within you.
Sculpture is not a civilization, but you,