"My eyes fly over this shape engraved in the matter. My eyes are drawn into this hollow, its silence and emptiness as a magnetic force. Its concave shape offers space to my body. My mind is already flowing inside, my fantasies infuse into the darkness at the bottom.
I'm softening and melting to the hollow, I lose the sense of the limits of my own body. Floating in a liminal space between matter and myself, between immobility and movement. My thoughts are drifting. I meditate on what gives us a shape.

As I’m pushing out, in search for definition, i become a sculpture in front of you. The contour is traced, between the force of the matter from within on one side, and the framing powers of your eye on the other side. Somewhere between me and the other. Who decided? Why separated?
Fairy friction. Of my bodily utopia against the walls of the normative mold, two worlds colliding.

Is it for you the same as it is for me? Is my skin the border you have to push against? Each one of us trapped inside of their own shell? Is it ever going to be different? Will i ever be able to appear to you? Will we ever be one again?"

  Zoé Lohman