diary of a cultural refugee

3 November 2004 – 10 December 2005

Yiannis Ziogas

Π37 artgallery

We left off, where there is the other, or even that the great other. We left and we got that? Arrived where there are still open tensions of our desires. Where there is only us and the objects. The objects in the most pure, the most sincere dioastasi. Yes, that seventy-eighth dimension that was hidden from those who want to round the senses and meanings.

Be! We are here again. anymore We’re here, in another country, a country where the planets, even they seem the nearest. Tired to come but arrived. And here we are, cursed a perception that exists only to reproduce anything. And now what? Now that? Now When?