METHOD COUNT

The groove goes underground. A wave lifts my body, and pushes me out of me. I find myself once again in “the world”.

I am on a vast flat plain with fine, thin, clean dust at my feet, as if I’m standing on a giant clay tennis court. It’s morning. I see tall towers bristling with spikes planted here and there. Thousands of people pass in all directions. They seem to know where they are going. They are busy and focused; they do not touch; they even avoid each other; but they only temporarily deviate from their trajectories, which remain very precise. As they walk, hastily, they all mumble numbers. Are they, perhaps, counting their steps?

I decide to embark on this same movement, thinking “well, just go straight like everyone else, and we will see where it leads.”. It is suddenly clear that I, too, know where I am going. Well, straight ahead. Watch out for this lady in a green fichu on the left; this young man in a suit and briefcase who walks by lowering his head … I arrive at the entrance of a tower of spikes… The glass door opens in front of me.

From the album Moiré by Ian Boddy & Bernhard Wöstheinrich
din.org.uk/album/moir-din18

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