Several Persons

Dear Ida, Sarah-Louise, Simon, Jim, Marie, Juliette, Nicolas, Laurent, Inès, Colin, Alexis, Martin, Olivier, Joao, Louis and Léa,

As I sit here on August 1st, 1979, my ear is pressed up against the past as if to the wall of a house that no longer exists

The next class will be held on Monday, March 24, 2014. Between now and then, I would like you to make a new work in the city, or on the edge of it.

I can hear the sound of redwing blackbirds and the wind blowing hard against the cattails.

It can be a t-shirt that you make and wear for a day, a sticker of two square centimeters that you place clandestinely on street lamps, a drawing on the ground with chalk, an installation made in a waterproof box immersed in the depths of the ponds of Ixelles, a watercolor delivered to the mercy of the rain, a text whose subject will have come to your mind when you get out of the pool. In short, the project of your choice, as long as it fits in with the path you're on and makes sense to you.

They rustle in the wind like ghost swords in battle and there is the steady lapping of the pond at the shore's edge, which I belong to with my imagination.

When the day comes, I invite you to bring the documented traces of this project as well as your latest studio drawing. We will talk about both at these meeting times:

Lea (12:00), Louis (12:20), Joao (12:40), Nicolas (1:00), Jim (1:20), Laurent (1:40), Martin (2:00), Olivier (2:20), Sarah-Louise (3:00), Simon (3:20), Marie (3:40), Juliette (4:00), Alexis (4:20), Colin (4:40), Ines (5:00), Ida (5:20).

So the Wind Won't Blow it All Away, Richard Brautigan