Jeanne Astrup-Chauvaux, Oliver Gudzowski, Philipp Preiß
In the past year, the contrasted feeling of having a fluid mind locked (down) in a static body, opened new horizons for dreams, highlighting their renewed importance in our daily lives, and even the possibility of their physical implementation in the spaces we know too well.
Through this semi-fiction we decided to map personal strategies that we developed in the past months, and that helped us escape repetitive spatial and social situations. Through the use of fiction and physical transformations of our surroundings, we explored dreamt spaces – which weren’t that fictional in the end.
While sitting -or standing- at our desks our imagination builds new personnal worlds that secretly unfold away from our screens – may they be real, or fictional, or real : does that still matter now ?
minute_0: i feel great, enjoying my coffee in my underwear, still warm from my bed
minute_1: I greet everyone in the room and look out of the window – I catch myself enjoying the fact of not having to go outside
minute_20: my attention drops I write a mail while someone explains his plans to extend the space station with a rotating room full of water, to take a bath inside
minute_40: hmm, why do my hair look so flat? maybe i should let them down.
Moving slowly so that nobody notices the movement on my video.
I look so pale. It’s probably the light. Next time I should sit closer to the window. But then everyone will see my bed…
anyway, what is she saying ?
The flowers look very good. I hope nobody thinks I put them here on purpose. If I turn them slightly… yes like this it’s better.
minute_50: How come my video is fifth on the screen now ? I used to be second. Is it because I haven’t talked for a while ? I completely lost track. What are we talking about ?
why is everybody’s silent ? Am I supposed to talk ? Ah no, someone just forgot to turn the microphone on, classic.
My hair are too tight now, but if put them back up, it will look like I care.
minute_80: my back starts hurting from sitting, the same way it hurt yesterday
minute_240: the pain is so bad that I stood up, now standing in front of my screen. no one noticed, I obviously turned off the camera before.
I feel safe here. I move around like a professional. I know the best angles for the camera, and my laptop never runs out of battery. My movements are precise and minimal. I know the wall behind me perfectly, from seeing it in my daily reflection, and the left corner of my table, where my cup always leaves a stain on the wood.
I know my way around this room exactly. I know when the sun shines on the floor, just before 12, only for a few seconds. 34 seconds to be precise. Sometimes I lay on the ground right there to enjoy the moment. At first it felt stupid, but now it’s an evidence.
There is no situation I cannot handle here. But at the end of another day, after I finished counting every single object in the room, even counting the objects inside the objects, I wish I could be take off guards, surprised, even disturbed, by a violent rain pouring on my face or some water underneath my feet.
minute_360: why is everybody so serious ? aren’t they tired ? / sigh /
I stood up for two hours now, my legs are heavy, and my hands are cold. who cares ?
minute_432: I cannot stand anymore, I stopped my video a while ago, pretending to have a problem with the internet connection
minute_433: I wish I would lay down in my bed, not looking at my screen but putting my laptop next to me and just listening to the voices that keep on talking. I can’t engage in the discussion anymore as I shut my eyes I try to imagine the bodies behind these voices. I can’t hear anyone breathing, but probably they are. When have I heard somebody’s breath for the last time ? touched somebody’s hand for the last time ? My closest friends these days, are of another kind.
I’m still in the same room with the same 19 people from the morning. they where 20 before, one person left, no one nows who exactly. we just know because in the corner it says that 19. i lost track on how much time has passed, its already dark for at least 3 hours.
my eyes hurt, i feel like nobody´s paying attention anymore, i just want these people to shut the fuck up, so i can be alone.
suddenly, they are gone – no sound left only the echos of my thoughts colliding against the the cold, straight, white and yet so familiar walls.
– Am I hungry – i check the fridge 2 minutes ago when i found out what i already knew
– this noise again – i know it so well and yet each time it surprises me,
– i wonder if it is still empty – i check the fridge again, it’s still empty
– here, here it is again. I can exactly picture him standing in front of it. his pale face lit up by the cold light, escaping the screen for a few seconds.
– i’m thinking of checking the fridge – i’m sure its empty but maybe ..
– there, again – it is like it’s calling me, an absurd call for company,
– maybe, just maybe there is someone that hears me opening it, someone that comes up and rescues me./acknowledges my presence.