(…)
dig into the sky
until the blue, neither pure nor dirty, salivates until desire sweats from your pale pores
and your many hues return ~
you need not heed the crowd
the hybrid or the two-headed monster
the solid wind like an offering on our burning tongues between pyre and solstice bonfire
arm yourself with your prettiest pearls
and billow out into the tinted skies
like an infinite variation of shapes and matter
remember that everything can still be rethought
and that these waters shall not be charted
so rest on our shoulders
save your strength for the most powerful of processions
save your strength to shout your name for as long as it takes
– performance text extract, translation from french: Fig Docher
An invitation by Liza Trottet, Martin Jakob and Colin Raynal