From my window I could see a gas station It actually blocked my whole view, making the only thing I could see the signboard and antenna, which I always imagined to be the moon instead Because I couldn’t see the real one I looked at it every night before I went to bed The signboard flickered, there were silver and blue decorations all around the property, moving along the rhythm of the wind My pen broke in my pocket The fabric turned dark blue A pocket folds and unfolds You can store a fragment you found, a moment you froze Moments and ruptures Fragments and cracks Flows and folds Putting my hand in my pocket I felt the wet ink on my fingers Everything I touched got a little dot Putting my hand in the pocket I felt the sticky oil on my fingers Dripping even, when I got my hand out Rip some paper Take a sip of water Cough three times Make a note Take notice Three notes Like a jotting Err a bit Take a sip Take three sips of water Three drops of water Dots of ink An ellipsis is the omission from speech or writing or sound or image that are superfluous or invisible or able to be understood from contextual clues To leave out Typographically it’s literally three dots The fact that it is there makes it part of the story It shows: here was something, but I chose not to mention it I’m not sure though if mention is the right word The text becomes fluid To hold someone In the hold To hold on Since I started writing about water and leakage, the water pipe in my apartment broke And in all my painful memories the floor turned into water, but the furniture didn’t even move And when I walked past a river last week, it flooded, making the streets part of the river, making the trees stand in water until the part where the leaves will come again in a month To fold a layer that either soaks or blurs […] looking for presence and so often only find what it knew it would see […] Find with a drop of water Go there and hold someone The rupture Or the hold Three drops, three dots A drop of water, a moment to breathe To hold, to put on hold, to keep, to seek Like a jotting The background My back, the ground Do you see the reflection? It took two weeks to dry… can you believe that? And the other picture has already been wet for two weeks now Like a leakage in the plot Part of the story But omitted or silenced Shifts, slippage, such slidings making gaps, rends, holes Not an absence though Rather an undoing […]What is not put into the scene What is put into the non-scene What is not enough put into scene[…] Put into notes “Make pictures while it leaks Make a picture to leak on” It said in my notes Some enters, a few jumps To hold on To put on hold To err in the hold

Project of relating the concepts of ellipsis and leakage, as a way to find a fragment or moment to hold and move within already existing structures and systems.

From my window I could see a gas station
It actually blocked my whole view, making the only thing I could see the signboard and antenna, which I always imagined to be the moon instead
Because I couldn’t see the real one
I looked at it every night before I went to bed
The signboard flickered, there were silver and blue decorations all around the property, moving along the rhythm of the wind

My pen broke in my pocket
The fabric turned dark blue

A pocket folds and unfolds
You can store a fragment you found, a moment you froze
Moments and ruptures
Fragments and cracks
Flows and folds

Putting my hand in my pocket
I felt the wet ink on my fingers
Everything I touched got a little dot

Putting my hand in the pocket
I felt the sticky oil on my fingers
Dripping even, when I got my hand out

Rip some paper
Take a sip of water
Cough three times
Make a note
Take notice
Three notes
Like a jotting
Err a bit
Take a sip
Take three sips of water
Three drops of water
Dots of ink

An ellipsis is the omission from speech or writing or sound or image
that are superfluous or invisible or able to be understood from contextual clues
To leave out
Typographically it’s literally three dots
The fact that it is there makes it part of the story
It shows: here was something, but I chose not to mention it
I’m not sure though if mention is the right word
The text becomes fluid

To hold someone
In the hold
To hold on

Since I started writing about water and leakage, the water pipe in my apartment broke
And in all my painful memories the floor turned into water, but the furniture didn’t even move
And when I walked past a river last week, it flooded, making the streets part of the river, making the trees stand in water until the part where the leaves will come again in a month

To fold a layer that either soaks or blurs
[…] looking for presence and so often only find what it knew it would see […] Find with a drop of water
Go there and hold someone
The rupture
Or the hold
Three drops, three dots
A drop of water, a moment to breathe
To hold, to put on hold, to keep, to seek
Like a jotting
The background
My back, the ground
Do you see the reflection?

It took two weeks to dry… can you believe that?
And the other picture has already been wet for two weeks now

Like a leakage in the plot
Part of the story
But omitted or silenced

Shifts, slippage,
such slidings making gaps, rends, holes
Not an absence though
Rather an undoing
[…]What is not put into the scene
What is put into the non-scene
What is not enough put into scene[…] Put into notes

“Make pictures while it leaks
Make a picture to leak on”
It said in my notes

Some enters, a few jumps
To hold on
To put on hold
To err in the hold