”I am not a reader”
I did not choose the place or the time
A trial occurred. Once upon a time.
I have caressed the black.
Straightened the white...
Closest to my body
In between – I –
Am tossed, restless, as I hear him say:
”Read!” But- ”I am not a reader.”
I jump rope. It is a freeing game that has in it some cruelty, attachment and separation, a circularity that gives one the sensation of flight. The woman/girl tries to separate herself and fly but the thickness of the black matter holds her, the wall in front of her stops her, and the ceiling above her head seems to be getting closer and closer, pushing her deeper into the black matter.
The action of jumping is an attempt to spread the black matter. Spray is flung all over, writing a language of coincidence and action, a readable language but not an understandable one. What the man tries to do on the computer, that dialogue, connects the flying drop of paint and the typed letter to the clicking sound of the keyboard, and the clicking sound of the rope.
Thanks: Ibrahim Abo-Elhaija
The Department of Arts at Haifa University
The CDA's archives are operating with the support of the Ostrovsky Family Fund and Artis
