like another

2025

What if using your body felt like speaking in a foreign language? Where to learn this ambiguous grammar? how to decode the opaque meanings of bodily interactions? With your eyes? With your skin? In the classroom? In the backroom? 

Touch is a tongue (like another)

is a stream of thoughts echoing these questions, through memories, fantasies, observations and anecdotes. The handwritten lines and the personal, sometimes erotic content give the text a diary feel, pointing to a certain immediacy between thoughts and gesture, like a space of freedom for its constrained narrator. But each letter, calligraphied individually, also underlines a sort of labor, a slowness that might hinder its actual goal. This mechanical effort towards vulnerability spills into oversharing; ultimately bilinguism slips.