Ennui Paradiso

A place can be a means of connection, a common interest. It can be a mark on a path. An orientation. But
a place is also changed by our outlook and perspective on it. Like a room appearing smaller in hindsight.
Empty, like a small town during summer break, a certain feeling of being lost in absolute freedom. Being
located yet lost. Ennui Paradiso can be understood as a randomly accuring point in which the traces of
the participating artists are temporarily overlapping. The exhibition opens up to this fragile connection.

Ennui paradiso

(When I was younger, I would bite my sister in the foot,

and say she’d hit her toe on my tooth.

For children,

there were rules to be learned f ex

Don’t laugh at the names of people who have recently died.

And

Every time a slut tells a joke, an angel cries.

But I thought

Why not be honest with your callousness.

I’d see an old man sitting outside on a chair,

wearing an eyepatch and a colostomy bag,

and I’d be in love with him all summer long.)

What a pleasure to have something, like Vanessa Paradis, to occupy your thoughts.

(Now the future entails:

A balcony as health risk and benefit,

possibly shooting at people who’d call you thoughtless and special,

trust-falls with the highly paranoid,

the chthonic.)

Flora Fritz