Soliloquy for a Hypothesis of Travel

The story comprises a subject, a solitary figure who travels through time and space, a creature very similar to her creatrix.

Incorruptible, she has no age, she consoles herself by looking at eternity, an infinite space welcomes her and deep solitude gives her a feeling of peace.

We are not there to be surprised, the tangible world is lost, we push further so as not to be seized with anxiety. We abandon objects filled with melancholy and follow this slender figure that has no purpose. Now she bends down fearlessly into the depths, scans the ocean.

An anomalous wave can suddenly catch it, as the bright, cold sky heralds the next Northern Lights.

The virtual journey continues, the figure dreams of new images freed from the unbearable shackles of matter, their kingdom is the darkroom. They appear like mirages in black and white, the journey ends quickly, in the blink of an eye.

We are the measure of time. There are no borders, traveling is simple, natural, no path comes between thought and action.

The figure looks into the distance, a creature surprised by her own loneliness. An unknown horizon asks her about the future, will tomorrow be the same as today? An eternal present awaiting us without interruption or discontinuity? Sensitive skin feels the sea breeze pricking like a pin, a flash of light crosses the atmosphere charged with electricity.

The Philosopher’s Stone has left the world, something is emerging from the deep blue that is not visible to the naked eye, are you my love?

The wave stifles the words spoken in an incomprehensible language, bathes deserted beaches, noble faces, obvious signs of a vanished humanity, traces of animals and plants crisscross the sand, unknown footprints, shortcuts that force them to bend over to continue. Risky assumption, geography, we are the measure of all things.

The labyrinth of life branches off into many paths, many unexpected possibilities. Hungry roots roam the earth, veins saturated with lymph are lost in nothingness encouraging a vain search.

I wake up, thoughtful and alone, life has convinced me to negotiate with the dark.

Figure surprised by its own loneliness (analogue photograph)