Kiara Asllani
Habitation 01 - Pour une photographe
Habitation 02 - Vila 5
Habitation 03 - Vincent et Elvis
Habitation 04 - Dajti
Habitation 05 - Jutta
Habitation 06 - Kela
Habitation 07 - Sud
Séjour dans l’attente
Une théorie du pittoresque
Comment raconter le voyage
... D’une chambre
Histoire de Poia
Sans ville
Hijet
Time of cathedrals
As I started to tell you Last night, I repeat here.
I had not realized that it was about forming a community. Going there was not a difficult decision to make.
At first, there was a ritual. This circle that came back often.
The first physical contact occurred during the first circle. I saw a girl take us by the hand, two by two, forming a circle of nine. She herself included. A form of ritual practiced by workers before starting the construction of cathedrals, says she. Physical relation.
Support. One rhythm, breath. Us:
Ruins of strange lives, organic storms.
Coordinated. Young hands.
If it wasn’t a ballet, then we were alone.
If it wasn’t a wall... If being present was not the challenge, maybe retaining and revealing these curves of character and the most consistent part of our personality.
We tried to bring out the truth of ourselves.
When the origin of any rebirth occurs in sincerity, and is then lost. We did see something.
Birth of beginnings occurs in faith. Uniting around a fleeting thought. A tenacious voice.
What union?
We tried, however, to bring out the truth of ourselves.
Looking inside, I couldn’t find anything solid.
No surprise. I found no shape or material.
The so-called complexity, mine lies in this fear that clarity evokes in me.
Silence silences void. At best, the risk of misunderstanding.
I think I understand. And in those moments, I embody the worst of human characters.
What gave me strength, my dear, was the weakness in their knees, and through that, clearly I found love.
And when it was mine, dear, that quivering body, I loved their strength and fell to their knees.
Exhausted demanding the love that is due to people as they are. The self they finally recognize and protect.
They get angry.
Raise voices and mistake words. Emotion does not reveal its cause.
The so-called cause is educated. Education makes us choose our reasons.
Without it, we would be special after all.
I sit insensitive in my corner.
Beautiful together, they recreate the days that the world outside rejects.
We want to see the world with our most beautiful eyes!
- fabricating the surrounding environment.
...and my appearance in the play. Have I overshadowed somehow?
I find strength when alone. And lose it with their warmth and love.
I must get drunk on it. Play on memory tracks.
For each look, a different image. They don’t pay me.
What I felt for a moment somewhere, trying to revive...
Missed it. Badly played.
I don’t believe in history, but get carried by the myth.
Because I’m curious, observation I know.
But can’t play because no faith.
Condemned not to build because lacking faith.
The secrets of cathedrals.
Like collecting water for them visitors to drink.
Whatever they ask for!
The secrets of cathedrals.
During the circle, eyes open.
I train myself. I think I understand.
November 2021