a dot is an expectation

uma performance tradutória (transcriação? metatradução?) para o inglês de 3 páginas do livro “book from the ground”, de xu bing, escrito usando ícones e pontuação.

a dot (an expectation), what is the point? an icon, the earth, iconic pinpoint in the middle of somewhere, a manmade place (upon the backs of women), an outline of domesticity, flora as a negative, flora as a positive, fauna as a negative, fauna as a positive, sing sang sung, a song. birdly burst: bebedoo-doobedoobebe-doobedoobebe-bebebebedoodoo-doobebebebe-doobedoobebe-bebe-doobedoobe-doodoodoodoo-doodoodoodoo-doodoobebebe-bedoobebe: meanwhile, a shape (a human?) still in (yes, a human’s) bed. an alarm clock: de-dede-dedede-dee-dede! bird: bebe-doobedoobebe, five minutes (what snooze?), clock again: de-dede-dedede-dee-dede! then bird: oof. flapflap. alarm clock: de-dede-dedede-dee-dede!! an exasperated ear! eyelid plim! a startled eye! a hand, ever authoritatively, curtails the alarm clock’s tyrannical fulfilment of its prerogative. the eye, wide as can be, peeks outside a gropiusesque window, a cloud drips, prompting a downturn in the lips of the eyebearer, eyelid plum.

cat (ever an atavistic silhouette), whose eyes if framed turn into x-rays, arches its silhouette and makes (not a right, but good) angle toward the bed, prompting the eyed face to establish maximum distance between lids and lips, downturning once again the latter, creating perhaps some momentum for a change of relative angle between human extension and mattress, the cat is satisfied and proceeding to forward motion.

the seated human rides the cat’s vector after a separation minimum – forward motion, that is –: a throne room awaits. holding court does nothing to turn up those lips, and many points are deployed, but still unsatisfyingly, which is why there is huffing, and puffing, and stretched features, lips that pucker (trying to induce by similarity?), and yet there is no serve, the human at the throne changes strategy from mimicry to visualization, decides to defile the throne by consulting the devil’s scrolls, where logos extinguish logos, sending the human’s lips toward an upturn and a twist! and matter is finally served, down it slides, along with beads of saltwater, some lip quivering, more servings, perhaps two, some huffing and flushing – a rubricated precursor of what’s to come? –, all around blissful relief, a velvety treat (alas, no gooseneck), a careful supervision of the fruits of one’s toil, the final flushing. choreography: shower, drier, foam and razor, teeth action (paste and brush). human exits throne room.

if you rotate the context, the human once again takes forward motion, although this time not forecast by cat, and makes their way toward the hanger room, a place where you can find undergarments, tops, bottoms and feet accoutrements, and as any human knows what to do with (some form of) those, this one in particular follows. garbed and wide-eyed, human approaches mirror, causing their nostrils to discharge evaporated humors and an impetus to dismiss a shirt, try another instead, side-eye that one – the shade! – then another in the latter’s stead, vex vex vex, then dot-dot-dot, dot-dot-dot (building expectation), the human thinks of a solemn face, whose cloudy likeness is lighted up by the pumping energy of the human’s core, so much so that a shirt prompts harmony with those weary, finally upturned lips, and soon a tie is in the mix, a hand (still authoritatively) signals the whole of the human is ready. human exits hanger room.

human enters hearth room. a pointed finger (there it is again, oh tyranny!) starts off the expectation of fresh coffee, prepared in tandem by human and machine (a most pleasant result): steaming cup, boosting the turning of a dial that brings out the flames of the hearth, and the human cooks an egg (sunny side up), three sheets of swine lining, greases and upcrunches bread in the (presumably) oiled and proteined pan, catches either five minutes of wait-time or a wedge of cheese, and finally starts drinking coffee, marking the time with a frequency of dots (or sips), refilling, drinking and so on, as the dots trail into nothingness, until–

once again a pointed finger activates a device; this one modulates subtler frequencies (less forceful but no less airborne than caffeinated motions), and the wireless harangues about the weather and whether it will rain (yes, in the morning and the evening) or the sun will shine (partially, with clouds, in the afternoon), and threatens the downfall of area mercury columns, dot-dot-dot, expectations open up in the form of an umbrella.

as coffee once again is downed, the door modulates yet another frequency, promptly captured by our human’s ear (which is the nearest in the house, as cat is nowhere to be seen – and if it was around, now would be a good time to exit the premises immediately, in feline estimation). that human ear is startled (but not as much as cat would be), and the human’s already built-up expectations take a turn, peculiarly shaped as a mirrored (or not) ear and drive them toward the door where that timbre was sourced.

(exercício para classe da prof. tal goldfajn)

Publicado por

Maíra Mendes Galvão

maquinista.

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