A brain is a bit like a storage, right?
A giant, yet small cupboard. Like in Narnia, it could bring you anywhere if you dare closing the
doors behind you.
If our head spaces is a big archive, is it a room? Does it have walls? Is it made of wood? Are there closets or cabinets to store the memories? Can emotions be stored?
There, imagination sets the rules.
I am a very nostalgic person, I think a lot about what happened, what I forgot, what I
remember, what I hold on to, why and how. Growing up also means losing memories and objects.
I wish I could jump on a bus one day and visit my own brain, peek into old boxes, find that stone that was in my pocket for one afternoon when I was four years old.
The invisible, the fake and the real.
I tell memories by creating stories and I imagine that emotions can be tangible at times.
Because we get hurt, angry, happy, sad, and drunk and we throw things in our bins every day.
Memories, emotions, and thoughts are all so volatile. They just appear, could stay
forever, or disappear in the blink of an eye.
This work is not about keeping, it is not about nostalgia, it is about looking, imagining, and observing.

link of the video at the bottom of the page
link of the video at the bottom of the page
link of the video at the bottom of the page
link of the video at the bottom of the page
Video of the work by the Gerrit Rietveld Academie : https://vimeo.com/showcase/10501991/video/844593236
This texte was placed in the small drawer with the animation video on it. It was free to take for the public. 
There, where you can find a scarf, a tear, a crush, and a sock.
One day there was a door. A door that could lead somewhere, sometimes. Because it could change, depending on what was in there.
It is the door to the brain. The brain is a room where important and unimportant things are being discussed, accumulated, erased, or forgotten. It is the kingdom of chaos and drama. 
The door was there on that day, that second. It looks like a closet. As if you would enter a giant wardrobe. 
Two faces are looking at you.
A fish, a red one just came out. It looked relieved, or maybe it was the door that looked relieved. A drop of water falls on your head, on the sealing, and under the door. Your shoes might get wet. 
Open by holding one of the faces. A cat. A cat is inside. Does it live here? Where is the owner? It is wearing a blouse, like a doctor. It is looking at you, you’re probably late for your appointment. It is stressful, the cat doctor looks so tired that he has holes under his eyes. 
He says: “I am the doctor of this brain. I arrived a while ago, on a day when Filoche, a cat had to go to the vet for the first time. The four-year-old daughter was excited to meet that cat doctor. She imagined it in the car… The furry paws, big ears, green eyes, and of course a doctor's blouse. On her way back home she was so disappointed, she said that she thought that the doctor for cats would be a cat, that it would make so much more sense. That is how I appeared.”
He asks: “Did you see a fish going out of the door before?”
He was looking for it. He says that one of the closets felt overwhelmed, which is why the fish came out. Because the fish was taking up too much space, it was necessary for the door and for the fish to release themselves, but it happened too fast, no communication was involved. 
But it did happen, now the fish is gone, it went somewhere else. And maybe there is already a new fish growing up inside. 
I ask him, "Why was a fish inside a closet?”
He says: “It’s difficult to know, but this closet is the one for unnecessary worry. So, it gets full very fast and always keeps everything locked inside because it cannot handle dealing with it. So sometimes, a microcosm is growing inside of it, and most of the time there is water, so fishes and other weird, stressed creatures are appearing inside of it. And rarely, but once in a while, the closets open and a fish or two come out.”
Each memory, emotion, and feeling needs to be stored somewhere, but sometimes it gets messy, things that should not be lost get lost and things that should stay disappears. It leads to nothingness, or to an overflow. 
It creates stories that never happened but still exist. Here. On that day. Because it can change, depending on what is in there.
Like in a pocket, keys usually leave earlier than stones. 

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