My feet submersed by the river water. The little stones between my toes surrender and sinks very slowly.
How can I, vast mountain, cease to the quicksand? The water shows me how earth is fragile reality.It seems invincible, but isn’t. Too much water makes the earth stop breathing. It can kill the earth. It can kill my body, the only earth that belongs to me.
My body is land.
Water makes flood.
I want to exist, says the mountain. My transparent body apears in the act of destruction. The volcano destroys without clemecy, but the land made of volcano never is won by water.
The explosion moves the earth. The explosion generates earth. The explosions saves the earth.
The only way to create is to destroy.
The ambiguity of the body is in it movements. At times appears, at times disappears. Eternaly involved by ties which open and close. Releases and confines. Contraction and expansion altering like life and death on my body.
I want to be involved.
Explosions manifests in unique ways. Rules don’t exist.
The force stabbed on the wall can sustain a house.
The nail has no date to die. It can remain in the same place perpetually until the day in which nothing else makes sense and all that is left in the intention carved on wood.
Stains of a lamentation cry.
Who will win? The nail or the Wood?
I want an immortal moment. Forever a Picture.
Static, still, perfect.
Like Love at first sight.
I fell in Love with a man I never met but I knew I could Love him forever.
The static, perfect moment.
I gave my hand, said hello and he took his hand away from me. He destroyed the moment and I was destroyed with it.
I want to enter his coat with his body and sleep forever.
Hold me strongly?
I want to exist.
His hair and beard smell like cheap oils. He doesnt know how to choose quality products and although it is terrible it works. Everything works for him. He is invincible. He is the hero of his story, almost was of mine.
He took his hand away, asked directions, turned around the corner and I never saw him again. It was all so sudden, I didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye.
Come back! What is your address? I want to write you.
Will we grow old together?
I see a cloud pass by and I can almost hold it.
Almost, it’s always almost. It seems so tangible. Just like him. He will always be almost.
I want the cloud, static, perfect nailed to my body.
His hand on mine forever.
Jessica Cooke is a visual artist born in São Paulo, Brazil. She lives in Berlin, Germany where she studys visual art in the University of Arts, Berlin (Udk – Univeristät der Künst), under the mentoring of Susanne Lorenz.She uses her personal life and emotions to create a bridge between artist and public. She believes that objects pulse and searchs to translate this expression into poetic language. With great influence from theatre, she uses performance between her main midias, along with photography, installation and video. She participated of exhibitions such as Friends of Agora and Unbound, in Agora, Berlin Germany| 2011 and Drei Eck, in Stadtt Bad Wedding, Berlin, Germany|2012. As member of the Art Colective AGORA, she participated of Transient Museum, gallery Freies Museum, Berlin, Germany| 2012 and The month of performance, gallery L’Atelie Kunst Spiele Raum, Berlin, Germany| 2012