14.12.2013 The hugging swirls of the known and the unknown
14.12.2013 The hugging swirls of the known and the unknown Inside a hallway of merely glued collective places rested in a huge dislocated mansion. I pace forward and pose to view each piece like a critic in an avant garde museum. Until I reach a corner from my own bedroom; my messy dressing table; my reflection hits the wooden framed mirror and I come to realize I’m only another part of the collection. A head piece made of silk and other fabrics rests on my head and is dripping down like a skillfully crafted braid that is swirled around a silver geometrical dress with angles and big shoulder pads. Everything is floating to a rhythmic beat, I realize I am too. A woman rushes from the distance and calls my name; she explains that I’m invited to dinner, 2nd floor to the left she says. ‘It’s rude if you don’t show up’ she goes on ’ You can always take the elevator but it’s a tradition to take the stairs’. My rebellious thoughts inside the heavy headpiece decide to take the elevator. I’m inside the Elevator and the headpiece starts falling apart, I can’t show up like this I think, it’s only unreasonable to show my head and expose my floating thoughts before everyone’s eyes, it’s worse than giving a speech naked. The elevator stops at the 2nd floor. I see my dead grandma and ask her to help me fix my head piece before I enter. She says she wishes she could do it herself but it would be intruding on the living. She calls out the same woman I saw earlier in the hallway to help me out. ’ Follow me, please’. She enters a white room, with minimal items inside. She grabs sharp scissors and tells me to turn around. ‘Ah, she’s going to cut the attached piece at the back of the dress’ I think. Instead she tricks me! she cuts my hair! My hair; not abiding to the law of gravity; swims around and surprisingly I feel liberated. I wake up.