A typical Spanish room, in a hot summer afternoon, filled with all the siesta’s hipnagogic hallucinations, and grandmother’s ectoplasmic knitting, under the stern gaze of an invisible Christ, and the reminiscences of Catherine Deneuve. Your wonderful photos are an invitation to such reveries.
I feel like rooms like that are imaginary in that they are pretending you could live with a thin little mat on a varnished table like that and it’d never slip around or fall off but of course you can’t and have to just keep putting it back over and over rather than accepting reality and just designing the decor around the lives in it rather than the other way around.
A house arrest, just ended.
“A house arrest, just ended”.
Alvin Lucier, your table is ready.
Magritte’s back is turned;
violent strangeness of the ordinary
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