“A stone never dies, right?
Our society devours time, while a stone’s frame of time reaches far beyond our existence, intangible in its distance.
I pick up a stone at the beach, it is perfectly round, ground by the waves of the sea.
How many times has it been washed on to different shores?
How many fingers have caressed it before tossing it back to the ground, or before slipping it into their pocket?
I become curious of how its original place looks like.
There is an interesting contrast between the stone at the beach and the water which has carried it there. The stone, or geology in itself, is a fixed entity. When you hold it, the Materia doesn’t slip through your fingers as water would do. It’s made of compressed time, heavy in the hand holding it.
Water on the other hand is an unassailable materiality, a liquid vortex, a mass in permanent motion. The waves crashing onto the shore today will not be the same tomorrow. The ocean is not homogeneous, rather it’s a territory in multiple layers that is constantly changing.
Our bodies are made up by water, water is what connects us. However, geology is also something we carry inside our bodies. I’m thinking of body stones – gall stones, kidney stones. If we form geology, then the boundaries between where we begin and where we end starts to blur.
I’m one of those who slip the stone in my pocket, maybe I will put it in a flowerpot when I get home.” – Olga Krüssenberg