In the spring of 2013, artist and scholar Imri Sandström heard Corrine Fitzpatrick and I deliver the first installment of a collaborative text project at Printed Matter in New York City. She invited us to contribute a piece for an exhibition she was curating entitled Vita Kuben: Call and Response, a program for the Norrlandsoperan, the opera house in Umeå, Sweden. Over noodles one night at Samurai Mama on Grand Street in Brooklyn, NY, we started charting our journey west. Some weeks later we drove out of Brooklyn and things were forever changed. We edited the text our driving birthed and installed a thirty minute sound piece in the gallery of the opera house in Sweden's north that looped continually for the time it played. What follows is the poster that announced the project. The Three Thousand Mile Summer engages sound, the physical body, and relationships to time.
THE THREE THOUSAND MILE SUMMER
Quickly, because we have to get on the road. Swam laps in the morning. Feel the body reach. On a deck chair, second floor, off the room I slept in. Clear blue sky. Blue Ridge distance. Horses, vultures, stillness. First real calm in days. Summer shoes, Cristina’s watch, Grandma’s mother’s ring. Talisman. Yesterday Manhattan, Jersey Turnpike, Delaware, Maryland, suburbs of D.C. Fondness passing through. Blue, blue, green, green, green. Rising sun north east.
The sheets are my comfort in the early morning hours while it is still dark. Consciousness, rattling: I am not going home. Before, I always turned around. But we will press on: climb the ridge of the Smoky Blue Mountains, scale our way down the Appalachians, drive west towards Tennessee. Home will become a somewhere else. Run. Sit. Swim. Drive. Movement is in the moment: a shedding, a never coming back. Molting. This is the year of the Snake. This is the year of the snake who sheds her skin.
––Corrine Fitzpatrick & Litia Perta 2013