PROJECT HOUSE

Dear Friends

I'd like to invite you to take part in a living installation called "Home" which will be held at the end of the year (28 - 31. of December) at the Guinness Theater, The Substation. Pls. see the attachment. Feel free to invite your friends to it, and get back to me to let me know if you would like to take part in it.

Aleksandar



The attached poems are connected to the theme but are not necesseraly a part of the installation.

THIS HOUSE

“Why these mountains? Why this sky? This long road? This empty room?”

Laurie Anderson

This is the house where you lived.
This is the gate you opened every day,
Many times; a wooden peg,
More to keep it from flying open.
This is the living room;
There is no furniture now.
This is the gray bedroom,
With sentences on the walls, in white:
I will release you, you will return.
You’re beginning to like it here. Time to MOVE OUT.
A tall white mosquito-net now covering bare boards:
We never lay there together
We never kissed each other goodnight,
We never.
This is the flimsy kitchen,
The simple bathroom,
A wire umbrella stand lays overturned.
This is where you lived as in a home,
This is where you feared,
Where your mind went blank,
Where you thought you’ve never loved,
Or ever will be loved \ in love.
This is an empty shell now without you,
A soulless body, like when we die.
Some earth, some water,
Fire, air, ether
where you carried your sounds.
This might as well be just a photograph,
A memory, something to remember,
Something to forget.
This is where we never lived together.
This empty room.
This empty heart.

Aleksandar Obradovic

17.06 1999

The house in which I live, breath that pervades me

the house in which I live
is my home
moist from rain
scorched from the sun
full of love
earth underneath soles
a head in air
creepers around fingers,
animals on shoulders
eyes on arms
a girl in eyes,
a boy in eyes
a child smiling, arms upraised,
parents with neverceasing love
walls of dawns and dusks
windows of mountain lakes and falls,
a bed of roses, of lotuses,
of laughter chairs,
of longing rugs

You,
always in everything present
move with a strong-soft move of nonmovement,
caress-hit the world with your eyes
open the doors and say:
This is My house that you live in,
My breath
That pervades you

Aleksandar Obradovic