Batakliev's Bloc

Can you breathe it (through your funky mouth covering)? Can you smell it? Can you taste it? Can you feel it (crawling underneath your skin)? The BCN night street vibe. It’s in the smile of a shadow. In the sigh of relief, the nod of camaraderie, the resonance of distant guitars and all the muffled echoes and laugher you permit yourself to hear. It’s right here, tonight.

Taking apart furniture in order to destroy it is a strange concept. Especially furniture that has been custom made for you, to fit your space and meet your needs. Like this wardrobe. One by my one, the planks surrender and collapse as the screws wiggle out of their holes betraying the construct that holds all parts together.   These same planks used to be the shelves on which my clothes rested - the clothes I’d grab swiftly in the morning before going to work or p ick carefully in the evening ahead of an exciting date. And here I am - unmaking, freeing space, letting go in a home that will be “mine” for four more days. The new owner will reclaim this territory and make it their own. Soon another wardrobe will grace this space. Its dimensions, colour, facade, posture, gaze and spirit will be different but they will feel just right...to the new owner.