A set of clothes lying there, outside my closet. A shapeless mass, made of folds and flexion, clefts. For each cloth a memory. Each one I discard is a feeling that I relive, and then deposit. After years it is time to grow up, I’m not who I was, I do not wear those clothes anymore, that mask.
Measurement is part of me. Counting, numbering satisfy me; I can not, I do not want to measure myself, my body, my mass, my skills, but I can measure my experience, thus giving it an order, putting points where before only commas were written. Each material is subject to the gravity force and, therefore, falls. This is how I see it: an empty shell, a shell without a body, the body that has changed and no longer exists.
14 kg of adolescence. 14 kg of memory. 14 kg of emotions.