Infraleves

Infraleves presents photographic and written records of fragilities and impulses, they are thoughts, longings and symptoms of a past that no longer exists and a future that is disconcerting. It is a present where forms are blurred and noise becomes louder, it is the gaze to a distance, the resound of an empty and meaningless echo in our ears, it is a sign of a wounded body, of the longing to return to the past and of that possibility that vanished.

For Marcel Duchamp the “infraleve” is the vital matter of art, it is composed of those fragile events extracted from the contemplation of everyday life, it is a barely perceptible gesture that can reside in laughter, the fall of tears, the gestures of hands, glances and swirl or unruly hair.

The minimal, subtle gestures, the drives and the fragilities of everyday life are captured in the photographs, leaving their traces and allowing us to seize a moment covered with an aura that conquers us and reminds us of the situations that have now turned into melancholy.

The corridors of the city listen to the murmur of its inhabitants. 4AM silence is interrupted by the echoes of the past. Winter cold through my body, that kiss interrupted my sleep cold that reminds me of the loneliness and despair of my wounded body. Many things have already happened, the summer flowers have finished withering and the bare stem waits to bloom, but winter is long.
It's hard to describe a feeling when your body is hurt, the storm is upon me, and there is no shelter nearby, only murmuring walls.

Lying on the bed, once again, I feel your perfume lost between the sheets. Every time it feels less but that does not stop him from remembering you. I get up to piss while a song we used to hear is playing and I get under the shower, the water falls on my body hugging me warmly, I try to take my thoughts but it is in vain.

Naked I throw myself back on the bed, the music continues to play but I don't understand what it says, the noise in my head is louder. I send you a message and don't answer me, you have me blocked and I still remember you.
How crazy how time passes and it still hurts.

I look out the window as the city lights go out and everything is reborn, the noise of the train arriving at the station and the bondis passing by. Everything moves, but in my bed there is no time, I am still lost in my thought, What would have happened if we were together?

The cold morning breeze runs through my body, I soon felt the warm kiss of the sun on my skin. I see how everything begins to clarify even more, I hear birds singing and the thunderous fury of the city.

In my dreams I usually travel to a forest. I enter it and I feel the peace of nature, the birds singing, the freshness of the trees and the breeze that gently hits my face.
I see flowers everywhere but there is a rose bush that is my favorite, I walk there slowly while carefully listening to each of the sounds of the forest.
Una vez que llego me tiro al pasto y me pierdo en el cielo un buen rato. Anochece y es hora de irme, agarro una rosa para que me acompañe en el camino y emprendo mi regreso.

Suddenly I feel that I fall and I wake up abruptly, I am back in reality.

I open a beer and start reading, waiting for night to fall again to try to rest. Slowly everything dies and the echoes of the past rise again from the darkness. Another awake night listening to the echoes of what we were and what we will no longer be.

Them. FrankoDaniJoaco