Dear reader,

They told me I might be out here forever. With one foot rooted in reality, and one foot floating up above, lost in a twilight zone where time is not a concept. At times I feel stuck in between the two, while they keep pulling at my legs. At times, it’s painful and confusing. But I also feel like it frees me from boring linearity.

I don’t know how long I will be out (t)here, and I don’t believe I ever will. All I know is that part of me is here with you, and another part is not. I am solid, fluid, vaporized; composed of sulfur, mercury, and salt. 

I am (un)real and I am home: I am (un)bound in liminal space.

What I do know is that long lost parts will reveal themselves to me, and enter into new collaborations. New perspectives will unfold. Images will develop.

I want to share all this with you. Please leave me your name and email address, and  I will send you postcards from my travels. If you wish to hold it near, take this letter with you.

Until we meet again.

Love,
Alida