archive:‘cos paradise is based on lies, solo show Pinguin artist run space, Brussels 2024

<sup>Between the Trees (My Little N.D.E.)1

I was in a half-sleep state.  That particular state of drowsiness where brain activity, in an unprecedented and opaque way, connects real and imaginary elements: the irregular rhythm of the sleeper’s breath, external soundscape, distant memories, visual hallucinations, recent events, and things never experienced.  

These serene and hypnotic combinations2—columns of the Greek temple in the Valley of Agrigento, contradictory thoughts, incorporated incidental details, reclining bodies—appeared entirely rational while being absolutely detached from logic and materiality.
 
I was lying on dry grass, on an abandoned green-purple checkered, embroidered fabric3. In that drowsy state, typical of the deep unease of the living, these things were sluggishly and substantially chattering in my smoke-screened brain, when an indescribable sensation, dark and magical, came to forever propel my reverie into the liminal space of that hypnagogic state, that between-worlds realm from which I was suddenly withdrawn, depriving this dream of all possibilities of detailed narrative forever. I was in that half-sleep state when, under this unfamiliar sensation, my eyes opened, capturing fragments of tangible reality: beams of light filtering through the deep green foliage of the forest, particles of dust in the summer light... Yet, in what seemed like an awakening, between the traces and shadows, I saw my own body moving.
 
My squinting eyes, dazzled by the fluorescent light, scanned the luminous tunnel in which my ghostly silhouette walked. At the very end, I glimpsed a tiny entity, shapeless, unfinished. Above it, a white cloth4 began to flutter. In the breeze it created, my eyes5 began to glisten, fresh tears flowing into the hollow of my hands, and the entity came to quench its thirst.  

For a moment, I caressed it. The entity6 nestled against me.  On its forehead was inscribed "Meta," and the "a" faded away.  My eyes closed: details lost, combinations forgotten, truths. Between my lashes and in the haze, I saw again:  the columns, clouds7 of silver bats, Meta in the valley. A fine8 blade fossilized in a rock, the bus at the stop, and all their hyper-zoomed faces.  

Fragments of thoughts9 accumulated in my head:  “Death is nothing, for as long as we exist, it is not, and when it is here, it is us who are no longer... The world is a representation... Life is a dream... We live in the oblivion of our transformations.”  An eternity unfolded.  
Columns, Bats, Meta once again. My eyes in  the valley of tears began to cry anew. Clear, pink, waxy pearls. In the smoke of ideas and memories, between obsessions and dreams: Meta stretched against my heart. Fleeting butterflies danced above the corridor.  

Icy water on my face10.  

I felt more alive than ever
.  
And in the darkness, a red stone gleamed.</sup>

^{Julia Huet Alberola}

 
^{___Footnotes
1 Near Death Experience  
2 After Life, laser, graphite, and charcoal on paper, 2019-24  
3 Lucky, embedded textile, suture thread, LED, and zinc, 2024  
4 La vallée des chauves souris (1&2)*, hand-colored silver prints and lead, 2024  
5 Les yeux de lucy, raw clay, beeswax, and beads, on a black metal base, 2024  
6 The golem is a mystical figure that refers to the oldest Kabbalistic tradition.The first artificial creature, made of clay, shapeless and unfinished. According to legend, an inscription "Emet" (Truth) was engraved on its forehead. One day, the first letter faded, and the word became "Met" (Death), returning the artificial being to dust.
7 Dance Macabre, diptych, Chinese ink, graphite on paper, and glass engraving, 2017  
8 Lucrèce, sand-cast sculpture, tin, and semi-precious stones, 2024  
9 From an interview with philosopher Françoise Dastur conducted by JC Poizat for the preface of Le Philosophoire, La mort, 45 (2016)  
10 Twilight Sleep, painting on wood and objects, 2023}