milena carbone
The syndrome of Agamemnon V/VII - Keeling over
Exhibition : RIBONG 934 :: THE OVERWHELM
Artist : Meilo Minotaur
"Read" the whole story on Medium
Agamemnon died, and there was no longer a word to name the order, nor swords to enforce it. The world of Agamemnon collapsed, everything that was linked by his words fell apart. The people dispersed, many families migrated and a small number remained on the lands of Mycenae. The palace began to creak like a tired old ship, the walls crumbled, the floor rocked.
Between the end of the world and a new beginning, there was a space inhabited by terror or hope. There were these who clung to a lost past, and those who believed an imaginary future.
But few were those who taste this moment without gravity, where everyone is infinitely light, infinitely free. Installed in the present, with no certainty other than to exist, they expend no unnecessary effort, they have nothing else to do than to be there, observing possibilities that open or close like flower-heads.
They don't walk, they fly. They hope for nothing, regret nothing, they remain. They don't judge, they don't know, they don't intervene. They connect with chaos and, do nothing and start dancing.
The syndrome of Agamemnon V/VII - Keeling over
Exhibition : RIBONG 934 :: THE OVERWHELM
Artist : Meilo Minotaur
"Read" the whole story on Medium
Agamemnon died, and there was no longer a word to name the order, nor swords to enforce it. The world of Agamemnon collapsed, everything that was linked by his words fell apart. The people dispersed, many families migrated and a small number remained on the lands of Mycenae. The palace began to creak like a tired old ship, the walls crumbled, the floor rocked.
Between the end of the world and a new beginning, there was a space inhabited by terror or hope. There were these who clung to a lost past, and those who believed an imaginary future.
But few were those who taste this moment without gravity, where everyone is infinitely light, infinitely free. Installed in the present, with no certainty other than to exist, they expend no unnecessary effort, they have nothing else to do than to be there, observing possibilities that open or close like flower-heads.
They don't walk, they fly. They hope for nothing, regret nothing, they remain. They don't judge, they don't know, they don't intervene. They connect with chaos and, do nothing and start dancing.