Jujube/methods-session-6

Calendars:Networked_Media_Calendar/Networked_Media_Calendar/09-01-2019_-Event_2

Steve Suggests: Proust and Signs https://www.jstor.org/stable/10.5749/j.ctt9qh3bc

Loglines

/////////////// 1 ///////////////

In the crumbles of a mountain,

under the shadows of birds,

a tree tells me

where you might be.

/////////////// 2 ///////////////

A young woman seeks her past in the mountains.

/////////////// 3 /////////////// - breaking news

A woman has been going down to the ravine — or as it is called in Spanish, barranco — in search of her past. So far she has received intelligence from an almond tree.

Synopsis

/////////////// 1 ///////////////

Forgetting assumes pre-existing memory.

I can't really say I have forgotten you. I simply don't remember. So I look for signs: mountains, birds, shadows, stones, air.

To seek is to try without knowing — to remember without memory.

Will I find you?

--edit--------------->

Have I forgotten you?

No. I simply don't remember.

I try without knowing. I seek without memory.

Through the mountains, shadows, stones, air.

Will I find you?

/////////////// 2 /////////////// - pseudo-scientific-paper

"An egg does not unbreak, and we do not un-age," writes Brian Greene in The Fabrics of the Cosmo. The arrow of time has existed since the initial moment of the universe. Why does time go in one direction? Is it possible to have no past? To be specific, is life livable without memories?

Our hypothesis is that life is constantly lacking — a bearable agony — without a personal past. In this experiment, individual Z, who claims to have no memories, attempts to find the resemblance of a memory through trial-and-error in the mountains. We will draw our conclusion from her findings.

/////////////// 3 /////////////// - for children

Aly's mother had a belly,

belly with a baby named Aly.

When Aly was born, her mother smiled,

"look at my beautiful beautiful Aly!"

"Wait," she woke from her dream, "I am not Aly."

"I am not Katy. I am not Sally. I am not Emily."

"Do I have a name," she asked the bird.

"Perhaps," the bird said.

"Do I have a mother," she asked the rock.

"Perhaps," the rock said.

"Do I have a past," she blinked as the mountain turned pink.

The wind echoed, but the mountain did not answer.

/////////////// 4 /////////////// - horror

There's no one.

She doesn't know.

There was no one.

She doesn't know.

There will be no one.

She doesn't know.

Something breaks — shatters, rather.

Was it a cold brittle vein?

Who will answer her?