Day 1 | “Trik, trak, tuk”
One way towards the uncertain, the emotion of the unknown…
Earth,
stone,
tree,
rain,
… the beginning of the rest of the whole.
The silence of the house, the only protagonist who expectantly waits as if waiting for Godot, daydreaming to be nested by thirty barefoot feet by pressing art.
She receives them with her melody,
“trik, trak, tuk”
constant creaking
singer chimney
aroma of homemade food
and the smile of the cook.
The dance of the thirty under the table,
clumsy, nervous,
the wine habiting the bare feet.
The game begins,
the creativity naked to the skin,
the instruments are tuned,
the improvisation runs
and the bodies fall like drops of dew.
Now they sleep and she stays alone until morning
with what remains when in the forest the bird shuts up.