Text written during the creation process of Fase dispersa by Teresa Santos and published in YANA Magazine.
A ball can be many things, but never a cutting object. Is affable. Has shape. Is stable. Is complete. It has no beginning and no end. Lasts. It’s full of something. It makes itself heard. It molds the body and causes movement. It fits in the palm of the hand. Sometimes glues. It’s reliable. Knows the way. It respects trajectories and acts according to the laws of gravity. Falls. Turns around itself. Tears the air. Suspends. Stops in time. It has a past. Looks like is smiling. Accompanies and is accompanied. Occupies space. Visits places and people. It traverses the body. Has a smell. It’s dirty. Its shadow has round contours. It has no light of its own. Can not be seen in the dark (or cant it?). Gets lost. Can be a trap. Challenges. It’s game. Fills. It’s wanted. Sensitive. Listens. Waits. Removes loneliness. A ball is not just a ball. It’s a body. It’s matter. It is a universe. Is palpable. Has color. It is not in the service of anything. Accepts. Trusts. It’s free. Is vulnerability and power at the same time. It’s a mirror. A ball is pure philosophy for me. Is love. Is alchemy. Is utopia. A ball can be a black and white explosion of joy.