100 Notes – 100 Thoughts. Now available: The fourth round of 30 notebooks in both printed and e-book editions.
A note is a way to eventuate writing.
When a function, such as writing, is liberated from an old duty, it invents—and when language is transformed, all is transformed.
One does not read a note. One sees the note, as one sees any other living creature. Like grass, or a tree, or dogs, or birds or fish, flies or gnats. But one also sees a note as one may see a stone, sediments or a rock, or a desert or a mountain or the little plants that grow through the tiny cracks of broken pieces of mortar or concrete in houses in some cities. Notes contest the monotonous nature of the written text, of the constructed discourse, introducing playful syncopations and ataxic hoquets into the text, because they constitute a polyphony of rhythms inextricably jumbled together allowing tone cadences to proliferate. How far can a note—one hundred thoughts in the form of notes—push this drift of theory practices away from the classic rules of analysis and text composition?
The notes contest the jurisprudent effort made by written forms, the tendency of written forms to repress the pleasure of an idea resonating, the audacious gestures and leaps of the multiple story tellers.
The question all these notes have in common, and in common with the works present in dOCUMENTA (13), could be formulated thus: “what, and how, do we think when we know?”, rather than “what do we know when we think?”
After the notes, come the artworks. Our speech ends here, now it is for others to take their turn, and—whether on stage, on retreat, under siege, or in a state of hope—to tell us other stories, other commitments, other embodiments, when notes and intentions become artworks.