ENGLISH

limit

Performance presented during the third private open-air show in Koscierzyce
Granica fot. Ela Gądek
It’s twilight after a hot summer day.
I’m standing barefoot in an alcove looking on a ball of thread, which I rolled for half a day.
When the audience comes I am starting to sense the tension, I turn my back at them and wait.
Ela is asking whether she can take pictures, I confirm that she can.
I stand there waiting,
I blindfold myself.
I turn on the flashlight fixed to my forehead, and point the light slightly downwards.
I put the ball of thread into my mouth, while the end of the thread is tied to the alcove
The ball barely fits in my mouth, I know it but no one else from the audience is able to see the grimace on my face.
I am starting to go straight ahead
I do not have any plan,
I have not counted how many steps lead to the path or the gate and which way I have to go to reach the bushes.
I am walking.
The tension is still strong, silence around, only Frank (2 years’ old) is speaking of tractors.
I am walking.
I can sense the grass with my feet; I have to move my lips as if I was murmuring some spells and walk slowly enough not to drop the ball of thread.
I feel the warm pavement under my feet once or twice,
Probably I crossed the path.
A step up, a wall,
I walk brushing my back against the wall and I enter the house through the door. I disappear inside, I hear conversations, somebody is coming down the stairs.
I am going straight behind, maybe I will get stuck in a corner of the house? And maybe I will go up the stairs?
I don’t know in which room I am but I can hear someone saying, Mery you are just about to knock down dome sculptures, so when I pass by a stool I wrap the thread around it so that it’s not too high and so that I won’t knock down the sculptures, this is after all not about damaging anything.
I keep going, I can sense cold tiles under my feet,
Threshold and the next room
That’s the kitchen.
I keep going,
And I get out to the terrace through the kitchen door.
The house is cut in half.
I keep going
A stair down
A flowerbed with roses
(this part is not pleasant but I’ll make it, it’s a performance)
I can feel the tension, people are looking at me but I cannot see them
The air is thick there is no sign of wind, even though you can sense cold coming from the field
Space
The ball of thread now turns swiftly in my mouth
It doesn’t cause salivation anymore
It will run out soon.
I arrive at the prickling juniper bushes
I am submerged in them
I have reached the fence
There is not much more thread left
In this situation there is no point in going on, and actually there is no reason for it
I remove the remaining threat from my mouth and attach it to the fence
I leave
I remove the blindfold and attach it to the thread
I turn off the light
Thank you.