No Address 2016

Performance next to a pile of stones from Jerusalem, Ramallah and Bethlehem, and stones made in various earthenware clays. 

I sit within the installation of 2 of my projects, sharing stories and home/land, made in Israel and the West Bank, eyes closed, thinking of the intensity of the last few days, the deeply moving conversations, and exchanges had.  In one corner, there is a pile of stones. Some are made by me, some I had gathered from my travels. I pick up stones and pebbles to mark and celebrate moments wherever I go. Just a piece of the land to remember it by.  Stones have also always been a symbol of struggle and resistance. I open my eyes to draw lines with my eyeballs, marking out and confining the space around me.  These lines are too abstract, too porous. I need to use a larger marker to define them. So, a finger, my hand, my arm, my entire body.  Why this need to confine? 

I conclude with the poem No Address by Fikrat Goja.

Photo Credit: Zamir Nega

Video Credit: Benyamini Contemporary Ceramics Centre