top of page

I lost my house key in a field one day.

It passed into the underworld and

returned as a copy of itself

I feel mute.

I've been thinking a lot about a moment the other week where I woke due to a loud crashing sound on my ceiling. I feel like I was awake for a few seconds just before it happened. I was waiting for it, as if I knew it was coming. 

It is no longer a question of imitation, nor duplication, nor even parody ... Never again will the real have a chance to produce itself-such is the vital function of the model in a system of death, or rather of anticipated resurrection, that no longer even gives the event of death a chance. A hyperreal henceforth sheltered from the imaginary, and from any distinction between the real and the imaginary, leaving room only for the orbital recurrence of models and for the simulated generation of differences." Simulacra and Simulation, Jean Baudrillard

bottom of page