The objects shrug off their previous life and function and, duly aligned, stacked, enter on a new phrasing in which their meaning and resonance is affected by what is superimposed on them or by what they are superimposed on. Pure synaesthesia.

Thus there is erected on a brushed, untreated stump of wood a combination of words and things, each with very different worlds and attributes: hammers, an elastic band, a beer can, heads and caps of unbaked clay and a little bit of Blu Tack. One might think of a synaesthetic force that would activate different rhythms, resonances. The smell of the old tools and the dry wood, manual work and spilled beer. But also the unbaked clay on the texture of an aluminium can and the Blu Tack. Each word, each thing, transferring properties and images, reconstructing another time or another place – a serendipity, an epiphany – in a synaesthetic alignment of words, in a spell that demands time in order to resolve itself, and distraction, of course.

Diego Delas