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Muovi, 2017

Minna Kangasmaa

Something that has no name yet

 

I wake up at twilight, at the hour of the wolf. I feel like Im not getting enough air. I turn the radiator to zero and open the window. Cold air rushes in. I feel better immediately. I look out the window into the freezing night. The trees are asleep. I leave the window open. An empty plastic water bottle pops because of the pressure change.

 

A moment is an unspecified amount of time. It is the shortest period. A moment is here and now, at the crossroads of the past and the future.

 

Is every moment important and significant? The moment Im writing this or the one youre reading this. Perhaps you dont consider this moment to be particularly special. It is just a tiny point in life that will be left in the past just like every other moment. Nowadays, theres much talk about the Anthropocene, the age in which human activities have fundamentally changed the Earths ecosystems and geological form.

 

Plastic is one of the materials that can be argued to be completely man-made, and whose full effects on the ecosystem is not yet known.

 

Time goes on. More energy is consumed. The Earth becomes worn. Soon what will be left is a withered plant, a shrunken body, dried-out water and polluted air. A burnt-out fire.

 

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Plastic misused becomes an abject that needs to be removed from our habitat. Something that is already forgotten forces its way back into consciousness, something excessive, like an experience of otherness and abhorrence that you cannot really identify or name.

 

Minna Kangasmaa, 1967, Oulu

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