A New Home

I never felt that I belong on this planet. My body just cannot adapt to her climate. The gravitational pull always feels to heavy on my bones. The temperature is always too cold or too hot. I sweat like a pig and at the same time I freeze like an icicle. The morning sun always comes too late. The dawn falls too quick. If I want to speak, my lungs cannot grasp the air. Is it too much oxygen or too little? I don’t know. The air feels like a solid, chewy mass that I can’t swallow, nor spit out. It just sticks in my throat and makes me stutter. My skin gets reddish and inflamed from the wrong mix of gases. I’m always hungry. I miss ingredients I don’t know. My craving for an infinite sweetness is never satisfied. My stomach always feels a little bit too empty. Earth's magnetic field interferes with my dreams. I feel tired when I wake up after every night’s sleep. The moon is too small or too far away, I'm not quite sure. But I know I don’t belong on Earth. Take me home!

(Accompanying text by Marianne Vlaschits) 

See exhibition text by Nada Schroer

Galerie Nathalie Halgand

Julian Mullan
(Installation view)