₲ØⱠĐ


. a single golden ray (2024)
or in Swedish .en ensam gyllene stråle

3x6m PVC tarp with a stenciled miction list* in gold lacquer, heat lamp, brass plate, text** printed on newsprint, the humming of the sun (from nasa). Installation view from Konstfack's spring exhibition 2024 at Färgfabriken.



*Miction list:A list of everything I have drunk and peed in 115 days.




**Text:



                 Did you know
                that I am about to
                            slowly
                    dehydrate
                              ?






I wonder when it will start to show
      the skin loosing it’s golden glow
      shriveling up like

                          a
                            little raisin   

                          .



The last four months I have steadily lost an average of two hundred milliliters of liquid per day    .


    I know this
        because I have been counting
        measured everything

                         that floats

                       in and out  
                                of                           my body  
.




There it is    .
There somewhere, where it differs .
There it hides

               , that
                 shimmering
                 truth    
               .


So,
      let us drink together
      turn this molten gold into something else       .



Here’s to the last of the fading rays
    the sinking sun                     .

Here’s to the violent beauty
    a sky set on fire                    ,

    as the flaming eye rises
    up again

    .

Up and down
again  

.


I want to tell you about a morning              ,
            when I woke up
            and when I couldn’t see
                            anything 
.


My eyes couldn’t
        be opened         

        my nose   all walled up

        and my
        mouth   dried shut                  
.



So I felt         through this forced breath 
          gently

                    over my face
             a hardened rough surface
        a solidified yellowing layer

.


Foreign
where my eyes
should have been

.



They might say that the sun shines through your every hole. Yet even though I turned this former face towards yours, and let your  
                  golden stream                                  burn
                 my flushed
                     cheeks


                     clean .



I still couldn’t see
                        anything

                        .



Other than that glowing growing spot,

a
      glaring bluish blush
a
      pulsating bruise              ,
      on the inside of my eyelids   .


    It is

a
    point          .

a
    focal point    .

Or some kind of                           starting point .




I wish I could have just started     here,
        at this strange center around which everything else revolves    
caught in rotating cycles, without end           

.



The sun blushes as it drapes itself over the bare shoulders of the glistening rooftops ,

        it turns its eye away        
        as a single golden ray

                    streams
                      trickles down .


Pouring over the ground
and splashing onto
    my shoes
              .


I usually try to sit in a slope when I need to piss outside, not that it seems to help much. It almost always sprinkles a little onto myself.


Anyway.


Take a sip now and feel the warmth spread.How it slides through your throat

      swells

            and threatens to continue down along your legs     

.



That is roughly
    (in round numbers)  ,
    about, maybe        ,


three hundred thirty millilitres    

thirtythree centiliters                  
three point three deciliters             
zero point thirtythree liters            


  or so   ,


  in and out
           of

your body .



I read somewhere that thirty three is considered a particularly lucky number, due to the powerful vibrations in the recurring digit
                                  three
in thirty three  .   

On the thirtieth of the eleventh month of the year twenty-twenty three, I had traveled thirty three laps around the sun.


Around that tender point   again.


Someday the circle might be broken, but obviously not today. Today it comes just as suddenly, without any sort of warning,

    a
        stab below the belt       ,  

    an
        urgent need that presses  ,

    and the whole body contracts
                it convulses
                tightens          .

Trying to hold it in
       to hold against the pressure
                          from within  
       .



While the gold rains down



tiny

tiny

tiny


 

Glittering drops          .





One

two


    three

.


      One




            two

  three .      



.




One

    two






            three


three

times

,

three
    daily
doses
.




   
Make sure
to drink it all
and to swallow it
.


I can see the bottom of my glass now. I can see
        see
                         clearly now.

As you turn your evil eye
                          around
                           again    .

An exposing, blinding glare that makes it impossible to see, and not to see, the sweat seeping out, up.
Beading on your forehead            
                        shining
                      bursting

                            spilling







down          

.



And there
    there was no beginning .

and there was nothing that could have been called an end  .


But there is a point
from which nothing can return                                                             ,

everything

      even the light
      is sucked back in

                     in to your


empty gaping






gaze

.







    A rising yawn ,



foreign
where your eyes
should have been

.









There it is again   
     .

There
      at the bottom right-hand corner      .

There you can see
      the sun
      a small black dot on the screen      .  



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