Keep in Contact as Keep in Touch

Matter of Fuck

Part of the series #matteroffuck

May 13, 2016

(Inside a temporary shelter, set up on the slab of the last EKO gas station in Greece, just before the border with Macedonia.)

We’re invited into a tent for coffee. The ritual begins.

Us and them, sitting in a circle, we begin looking softly into each other’s eyes, asking trivial questions, to ease the exchange. The coffee, meanwhile, waits for the acknowledgments to end so the festivity of exchange can begin.


Lola, Ana, Me.


Father of the family, strong mother, absent son, wounded daughter, young son, happy daughter, others have been lost along the road.


Dark times.

Confidential space.

Paralytic language.

Emotions traced across surfaces.

Clumsiness as nearness.

Movement without abuse.

The imagined real.

A lot of protection.

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