Luboš Svoboda
Translated by Františka Blažková
I can only concentrate on a day. That is the smallest unit I can court. When
I advance further, I will court an hour, and only after that a minute. (But I can’t even imagine.) If I can manage it in my lifetime, only then shall I attempt a second.
Far more than the stars in the sky,
I’m intrigued by the rats in this shrub.
…
When I’m done explaining something, it is as if someone has cut
my fresh hand off, which then takes a long time to regrow.
Sometimes, I shed the hand myself as bait,
just as slowworms discard their tails.
And then I stand there,
and give it a long glance,
as if it were my contribution.
#45 hypertension
Archive
- #45 hypertension
- #44 empathy
- #43 collecting
- #42 food
- #41 postdigital photography
- #40 earthlings
- #39 delight, pain
- #38 death, when you think about it
- #37 uneven ground
- #36 new utopias
- #35 living with humans
- #34 archaeology of euphoria
- #33 investigation
- #32 Non-work
- #31 Body
- #30 Eye In The Sky
- #29 Contemplation
- #28 Cultura / Natura
- #27 Cars
- #26 Documentary Strategies
- #25 Popular Music
- #24 Seeing Is Believing
- #23 Artificial Worlds
- #22 Image and Text
- #21 On Photography
- #20 Public Art
- #19 Film
- #18 80'
- #17 Amateur Photography
- #16 Photography and Painting
- #15 Prague
- #14 Commerce
- #13 Family
- #12 Reconstruction
- #11 Performance
- #10 Eroticon
- #9 Architecture
- #8 Landscape
- #7 New Staged Photography
- #6 The Recycle Image
- #5 Borders Of Documentary
- #4 Intimacy
- #3 Transforming Of Symbol
- #2 Collective Authorship
- #1 Face