I put across my thoughts on the second day of the project, reminding myself of traces from yesterday. I remember how I wanted to work with coloured threads, how I questioned the doors which came up in the corners of the room, how there were faces but all of this does not say what I intend to say, but they are like a reason to fill a space, to react to the space.
I like the image of the missing door knob, which I clicked in the morning, giving me a presence of the darkness. Later as I had a South Indian lunch on the round glass table outside my space of working ( my space is the whole of the house ) the conversation steered itself to the empty black hole spaces, boxes of darkness glued, constructed in between spaces of habitation.
I could sense the air, the locked up air, later I was corrected of thin line like holes letting air breathe in and out in these locked up box spaces.
I would be interested to enter into such spaces, have the audience experience such spaces.
My narrative as of now has been fragments of my imagination, memory and observation. I am interested to know more of the house…