Items · ICoDaCo_Delete_Account

A tender and chaotic love letter to being an artist, constantly falling apart and gluing themselves back together. Disassembled body parts float like confused planets, while words spiral between despair, ego, doubt, rage, hope, and cosmic nonsense.

Stringing words

We moved through the week as a slow constellation of thoughts, bodies, and uncertainties, mapping urgencies, letting ideas collide, and refusing to fix anything too quickly. We laid words on the floor, tangled them with string, invited friction, tension, contradiction. Meaning slipped, reassembled, dissolved again. We shook, breathed, listened. We turned language into movement, movement into questions, questions into scores. Instead of clarity, we chose possibility. Instead of conclusions, we chose openings. By the end, what remained wasn’t a final answer, but a living system: themes vibrating between us, fragile architectures of thought and care, a shared landscape of not-knowing — ready to be inhabited, activated, and transformed again.

3 topics / context / materials / theme

I work within a context of genocide. I work with a methodology of consent. I work on two kinds of content / materialisation of the methodology within the context.

Grieving.

One articulation is through 1-2-3-4-5 words: Grieving. Embodied grieving. Embodied grieving genocide. Embodied trans grieving genocide. Embodied trans femme grieving genocide.

5 times why

We asked why, and then why again, and again, until the surface cracked and something softer appeared. Five times why, not to find certainty, but to arrive somewhere more honest, fragile, alive.

Denmark