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a book with two covers and a certain number of pages | Kate Buckley

a book with two covers and a certain number of pages

‘a book with two covers and a certain number of pages’, 2022, single edition hardcover book. A collaboration with Joana Cifre Cerda and shown as part of May Show, our co-curated exhibition at x-church, Gainsborough in May 2022.

The book is compiled of images and words from our past decade of collaborative works alongside fragments of text from Samuel Beckett’s Unnamable.

 

is there a single word of mine in anything I say?

it is this voice which has often, always, mingled with mine, and sometimes drowned it completely …

perhaps that is how it began

the ‘I’dea is never ‘mine’

 

‘I’ ing

the subject

most blameless thing that divides the world in two,

as thin as foil,

 

the partition,

two surfaces

and no thickness

the knot which ties the seams

between who seems

between the ‘I’ and the (k)not ‘I’

(bending, binding, bonding)

a wordless thing

a picture, a circle,

broken at its lowest point …

a point, or dot …

… a circle and its centre in search of each other,

a centre and a circle

and a centre not its centre in

… in boundless space,

in endless time …

 

perhaps that is how it began?

 

I must have mixed them up, these nameless images,

these imageless names,

and this word which is perhaps not the right one for the thing I see when I hear it

 

oh

 

I am far … far from my subject

let’s go back to it

 

it’s gone …

 

… where was I?

oh yes, my subject, no longer there, or no longer the same

joining but jumbling

boundaries continually altering

the inside becomes the outside and vice versa

 

like the emergence of another world, these marks, these traits, irrational, involuntary, accidental, free, random, non-representative, non-illustrative, non-narrative no longer either significant or signifiers: a-signifying traits, traits of sensation, but of confused sensations (the confused sensations that we bring with us at birth), manual traits with a rag stick brush or sponge; throws with his hands as if the hand assumed an independence and began to be guided by other forces, making marks that no longer depend on either will or sight, almost blindmanual

 

where was I?

drowned in a sea of subjects and objects

all interchangeable