- - unable to speak save in a child’s words of one syllable; without shelter from phrases – I who have made so many; unattended, I who have always gone with my kind; solitary, I who have always had someone to share the empty grate, or the cupboard with its hanging loop of gold.
‘But how describe the world without a self? There are no words. Blue, red – even they distract, even they hide with thickness instead of letting the light through. How describe or say anything in articulate words again? – save that it fades, save that it undergoes a gradual transformation, becomes, even in the course of one short walk, habitual – this scene also. Blindness returns as one moves and one leaf repeats another. Loveliness returns as one looks, with all its train of phantom phrases. One breathes in and out substantial breath; down in the valley the train draws across the fields lop-eared with smoke.
‘But for a moment I had sat on the turf somewhere high above the flow of the sea and the sound of the woods, had seen the house, the garden, and the waves breaking. The old nurse who turns the pages of the picture-book had stopped and had said,
“Look. This is the truth.”
Woolf, Virginia: The Waves (1979)
Solo show Fold– fold– / –ing –ing (Las– las– / –kos –kos) was on view in Gallery Huuto Jätkäsaari in Helsinki, Finland, 25.8.–10.9.2017. It was followed by an affiliate exhibition Seas (Meret), which further developed the themes and works on display in Huuto gallery.