Amalia Ulman — Promise a Future

Opening Thursday 28 November, 18h
on view until December 21, 2013

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The decade started with a series of
Miracles
But this, on the other hand, was
An accident
And accidents are nasty

(…)

The cemetery, so close
Nearly there
Across the blinds
I can see, fortunately
I’m able not only to
Smell, the scent of the
Yellow unguent and
I feel and feel-not
One side of my face
Above my lips I can’t
Bite

You

(…)

Death was there but absent.
I was abusing of leaving-it-up-to-fate and a naïve it-will-never-happen-to-me, which is what other people call faith in God.
But sister always repeated that I wouldn’t die till I at least have a daughter, because she saw it in the pendulum once, meaning that, you know, I can’t give birth in my tomb.
Therefore I want to have children the older I can –to live the longest. But you already fantasize about my lactating breasts –and I already fantasize about the milk dripping down your chin.

Why a family? What do weekends mean?

(…)

You won’t believe this story
Because it’s just so normal
And smells good too, like

Beige and beyond new

(…)

Receiving flowers has become
An obscene joke and nurses
Laugh at the distressful
Quantities which make my
Room smell like a…
Cemetery

Why should I think about it

(…)

Changing my address to that of the hospital means something. It also means a dryness not even Weleda can mend. The idea of eternal moisture, of being moist forever, seems far, but I get distracted dividing acquaintances between those who ignored, those who messaged, those who called and those who promised a future. The hierarchy of care.

Who is the flower between the pigs? And everyone jumps at the same time screaming: ME

I redeem myself wrapping presents for others.

(…)

No One Will Work Harder For You

***

Every caress will feel like
An elephant stomp
Don’t squeeze me,
Most gentle companion:
And I know you can do that

Just imagine

Imagine you are fucking a dandelion.

(…)

-Good night (He said)
-Good night! (She said)

(…)

Spent a life wishing for an authoritative figure to fill my life with restrictions, now I have two, and they are called legs:

I breathe in, I smile
I breathe out, I cry

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