drawing / rimbaud's hall

The floor of the hallway of Rimbaud's home in Charleville












…see your whole life spread out in a spatial panorama, a vast maze of rooms, streets, landscapes, not sequential but arranged in shifting associational patterns. Your attic room in St. Louis opens into a New York loft, from which you step into a Tangier street.

This place feels like a funeral, the locals sit at the bar in black, in silence. I order a beer and lay out the beermats in front of me in hexagons, looking blankly through the rain to the Zonnecenter: El Sol opposite, across the street with its black and white chequerboard crossing. The white zone is for loading and unloading only.

The past and the future make an encounter like black and white. The real and the virtual coalesce at the border like a wound healing over.

Two forlorn chandeliers moving gently in the wind to the tune of fly me to the moon.