VIAGE A ALGUNA PARTE (non included extract)

The Asshole of My Soul

Experiencing a work by Meiro Kozumi, 7th of June 2012

I went to see a show performance that left me totally in shivers and crying. 
I had never felt something like this or cried from art since a few years. This time was different because it was beyond finding something too beautiful. 

This piece accompanied me into what i finally decided to call " the asshole of my soul"; as i could not come up with another expression that could reflect the sense of depth coming from the piece. 

We basically had to get inside of very strange and special house, where I had been before; but suddenly all what I knew about it disappeared. Each person was entering every 5 minutes, immediately drowned into complete 
darkness. Physically therefore mentally.You could close or open your eyes, it was the same. For maybe 20 to 30 minutes (the notion of time completed faded, leaving that of space on its own — this divorce was fatal), you had, solely with the help of your right hand, to follow the wall and its corners, find the steps, go up the stairs. 
I started to see shadows, people, sometimes you would bump in real ones. Your mouth was covered with tape so no one could speak to each other. Ironically you couldn’t ask for help even though you were told you could. I had
the sensation that the ground was fading under my very feet, or as if I was on the edge of the deepest well. Vertigo brother. About to die for 30 (?) minutes basically. This was physical, my mind was unable to rationalize the situation( it tried). Many other people went through similar feelings, different but extremely personal as well. Everyone went 
though its own soul's asshole. 

Finally you ended up in a room, with videos. Holy coming back to your mothers belly! Or your own brain, I don’t know. 
There was a video where you see the face of man, three quaters angle, on which someone had drawn three tears coming from his eyes, stating from his eyes lid, which he had closed. The face of the man was the result of the only question he 
had been asked: what is your happiest memory from this house? 

It was indeed the man who lived in the house we were in and which had been sold to the foundation organizing the event. 
The house will be demolished at the end of this month. How confronting was this? Of course you start asking to yourself: what was the best memory from MY house? which house? I lived in many houses. And of course, The same question
instantly brings you back to your worst memories. 

There was another video, projected this time, coming suddenly like a ghost. You’ d see the hand of the man apparently drawing the map of the house, with his eyes closed. A frequency of sound was coming out a sinthetyser in the meantime. I don’t know
how long i stayed, i felt relieved to be in that space, light finally. Until 10 or minutes after that i was staring at the video like a numb piece of cloth, i realized i had to go back! In the dark! This time with the help of my left hand. 

Meiro, how can you do this to me?! 

I finally did, like the end of a trip has to go back to reality. Oh man, silent tears in the dark… I came out trembling and kind off instantly started crying in the arms of the first person that was there, a dude from the foundation. His first question after are 
you ok was : do you want to talk to the camera? Oh man, so displaced, haha, funny guy. Of course I couldn’t. 

Jesus, then everyone was sharing their experience, and of course everyone had just gone through their worst memories as well as their best ones; among other feelings. I never felt a piece that accompanies you so well in an experience. Everything was just 
perfectly and accurately well felt, from the choice of your guiding hands to the tape on your mouth until the tears drawn on the face of the guy from the video. (was he doing the job for me?) 

I dont know if you can picture it, but here it is, i guess i needed to have this written, eventually passed around.