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THE BATH



"The artist asked me to come back the next day to experience the bath again and to take some pictures. I said yes immediately. It's like all the other disgusting and repugnant things that I can never stop doing."

By Federica Rossi

COPYRIGHT © 2002, 3 A.M. MAGAZINE. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED


I wandered all day long around the art sites springing up throughout the city.

Some days I wake up and I am in an odd state of mind, I feel more open, more receptive and more sensitive. Days when anything can happen. It was one of those days.

I know this kind of sensation that I feel once in a while perfectly well. I love this condition, I love these moments of weakness when any external sign can hit my senses and break my difficult balance. And I hate them, because they reveal my instability. I know it's dangerous, but I rush to meet my emotions. I simply cannot help myself. Attraction and fear. Attraction and repugnance. As if they were the same feeling.

I was lying in the bath, trying to relax, trying to smile and convince myself that it was just another weird art experience. But other impressions were quickly replacing the curiosity of being part of an artwork.

Seconds passed, I lay in the bath and a growing anxiety gradually penetrated my soul. My mind and body were receptive to all the sensations this work of art could inspire.

I started feeling sick, the anguish actually took my breath away.

The beautiful red roses just above me were turning into symbols of death and they appeared to me just as they were: dead roses turned down and threatening me.

All around me, drops of water were falling from the roses with their irregular, insistent and disquieting rhythm. The music was invading the entire space.

I couldn't distinguish anything anymore, everything was so blurred and distorted all of a sudden. I was ensnared in a whirl of madness. My head was spinning so fast.

I couldn't breathe.

I was experiencing death or some sub-dimension of life.

I stepped out of the bath, terrified, incapable of uttering the slightest sound. I was trembling, all my strength had been washed away.

Sumer Erek asked me to come back the next day to experience the bath again and to take some pictures. I said yes immediately.

It's like all the other disgusting and repugnant things that I can never stop doing.

Sumer Erek is a Turkish Cypriot artist based in Hackney (England). The Liverpool Biennial runs until 24 November 2002.




ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Federica Rossi, 23, was born in Foligno (Italy). She moved to Paris at the age of 19 to study at the Sorbonne University. She is now an exchange student in Liverpool. She considers writing as a cathartic process to purge her fears and as a way of exploring her other dimensions. She will never stop travelling and living in different countries.





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