Meio Fim (Half End) 

If there were a word (or an idea) on which all of us agreed, this word-idea would cease to exist. It would die for its ubiquity.

Language, the world of words and ideas, is based on copy and repetition of previous models and on the consensus of accepting their meanings and their failures. Linguists call this repetition iterability, a concept that describes both the ability and the necessity of a sign to repeat itself in order to exist and to build up its sense. A gesture, a meme, a word, they need to rebuild and recontextualize themselves continuously not to loose their meaning which itself never gets to set up completely, therefore never being completely carried.

If there were a word, or an idea, on which all of us agreed, this word-idea would cease to exist. It would die by our own will.

Between two sides of a dialogue, there is always a latent abyss: a free fall space for everything that doesn’t make it. From my speech to your ear, from your poem to my eyes, loss is fundamental. What a word loses on its way to others is what keeps it alive. Failure is the requirement for the existence of a symbol. It is its driving force and its law of emergence. It creates a space –the space of misaiming, misunderstanding, misconstruction and misinterpretation– that establishes the distances and so impells us to keep on trying to get closer.

If there were a word, or an idea, on which all of us agreed, this word-idea would cease to exist. It would die because of our symmetry.

When writing this text, I register what i wish to be carried. I register what I wish. I register wish. Who, then, takes charge of registering the unwished loss, of eternalizing it? Because the space of loss, so often ignored, is not a hollow space, but vast and good soil, a land for encounters which are just beyond our wishes.