exuviae [a story of metamorphosis]
EGG : what we all know
EEG : ElectroEncephaloGraphy
Maybe it was that I optically flipped the letters....where? In this board within my brain that I project the word-name of an object when I look at it. It was called E_E_G. And I read E_G_G. So I read what I knew already, that was my prediction, EGG. And of course on that brain board I don't see only words. Sometimes objects appear, in their full or distorted form, or sketches of objects, or even pieces of them. For me it was the picture of an EGG. What do I do with an egg in my hands? What would you do with an egg in your hands? Seriously now, have you thought of it? Cause when I was asked to do something with it, I only knew how to boil it, unpeel it, admire its inside roundness, just like the outside, with the only difference that a small part on the bottom was missing. This part of the egg is void in the inside, is an air bubble gap between the white of the egg and the shell. Nevertheless, I would eat it happily, especially if I would have my fun by putting it into the egg guillotine, where I would create sections of equal width, but surprisingly all different from each other. The fried egg was a bit more of a surprise itself, as it was impossible to guess its final shape in the pan. Would the white spread out quickly? Would it stay consistent and thick? Would I have to use a spoon to pour hot oil on top of it in order to speed up the cooking? I remember that sometimes, I really enjoyed how some little ribbons of the white egg would dance into the frying oil, making this significant sound resembling to the one of French fries thrown into cooking oil, but with air trapped underneath, popping up and escaping in the room.
Long time later that this memory, someone blows your mind by asking you to make something with an egg, something that you hadn't made before. Something that no one had made before with an egg. Something that would no longer be considered an EGG. Your mind stopped!
What could I make with an egg that was not made before and that was no longer an egg?
The answer didn't come from me. In fact, the answer never comes from me, it seems, and yet, it's me who is thinking about it and does it in the end. What a paradox indeed? I see, I listen carefully, my antennas are open and wired to the outside and by now I can clearly detect those moments that the EEG detects the electrical activity in my brain. I don't know how long it is going to take for me to figure out that this activity means, or when it will give me a clear sign or a concrete image. All I know is that it is something that is just being conceived. It doesn't have a form yet, no shape or purpose. It is an event, the glimpse of a moment that wants to rise. In that moments it felt like the point 0. The beginning of it all. But was there really a beginning or was it just the first moment of awakening? And yet, I thought that it was the moment of a big discovery for them, the others, the ones I was observing, the ones I was spying. Little did I know back then that this moment was my own awakening into the world of metamorphosis.
"If a “thing” can lose its identity only by throwing it against a wall-if a “thing” can lose its identity by using the forces of your body to smash it out of desperation to the point that you can't recognize it anymore, then "this thing" is no longer "this thing", it can be called “another thing”, but clearly is not the first “thing” anymore. "
The essence of its matter is altered, its form and consistency has been treated INTENSELY with thought and action-motion. And you don't recognize it anymore. In fact, you have changed too! If these forces and actions are so strong to change the matter, then you have changed too! You are within this system and you change along. No force, being that strong to change the matter in your hand, would only affect the matter. Its transformation has an impact on you. Or was it you who was earlier transformed and impacted the forces in the first place? In fact little does it matter. What is important is to learn to detect the moment. Not to see, foresee the outcome, what is going to be. Just to feel the crack of the moment that tells you that something will be as this moment is now. This is the moment of the cracking of the shell of an egg. This is the sound of crossing from one state to the other.
[...] And now, 7 years later, I feel another crack of a moment. This time is the sound of the metamorphosis. The egg became an insect whose body we witness in a moment in time. What you see is actually the exuviae of this insect which just underwent a process of ecdysis and entered another state of form. It is not possible in this moment to know where it went and how it looks like. Hopefully the scientist can give us some answers soon on the species that is captured here. It is said that by looking closely at the exuviae, they can even find out about its sex. Can you tell?
[The moment the matter transforms in your own hands has something magical and powerful. I can only describe it as a moment of not knowing whether it is you that influenced this process or it is just physics, the heat that does its work without you interfering much. Of course, it is both together. Working with materials that give space to an unpredicted outcome is an exciting process as the brain works in real time with the transformation of the material in new forms. You need to let yourself become one with it, to embody its characteristics and feel as if you are being transformed yourself. And in some extend you are!]