During long periods of silence, comes a distant sound, a fruit falling
Wind blowing
Do you feel the blowing, the wind?
Its soul and reason is to suggest, the season is here
The lengthy branches heavy,
Full and close to the ground of the tree.
That would be the arrival of the day, and the way of change;
For the caterpillar is free, waiting eagerly,
It can not complete its evolution without accepting its disappearance.
The furthest lands, opposing poles melt together with the blows of the wind and the showers of rain.
Day in Night
People leave their traces on mountaintops, on grounds, on canvases,
Traces follow each other, creating journeys.
Following the traces of men, feeling their prayers, and the colors they witness.
Each person carries such traces, they won’t fit in maps, they overflow.
Wouldn’t you want to see, to find, to know when and by whom the universes made of those traces left?
A wind is blowing, do you feel it,
Where it blows?
What is the time, what is the story,
From where it blows?
On the maps of the world made of long thin roads,
Oceans, and mountains,
To know you are following the right path, you must be able to see,
Having the feeling may not be enough.
Keys may appear unlocking doors to maps in your mind;
Opening other doors,
Light comes in.
May be blinding,
Maybe you see the beauty in the wind.

Text, Silence, Spectacle is a fictional narrative presenting three friends who collectively gather their powers with poetry and spoken word as well as a world of images, where the main protagonists are in a constant journey of transition between possible universes. It is an infinite dance of bodies, flirting on the line between reality and dreams.

Text, Silence, Spectacle is a collective exhibition presented by Jennifer Ipekel, Merve Iseri and Senem Ozgoren.

«I belong to no religious sect or political party. I believe that the idea of God is still evolving and that mankind is slowly forging a great world religion in which the word ‘God’ will include everything from the last division of the ion to the unthinkable vastness of space. I believe that we (and all things, both organic and inorganic) are actually part of this one Nameless One»

John Hargrave aka White Fox