A planet, Wittgenstein writes,

couldn’t look light grey.

 

A city can. But is shadows

always appear of the

earthliest blue.

 

Blue and grey mirror the earth

but also displace (displace) the different stages

of bruising.

 

These colours gives shape to the

damaged membrane of intimate

spaces, of bodies.

 

My skin echoes the crust

of the city—both are

blue-grey-blue.

 

Surfaces (skins, cities) protect

as fever does.

 

Monochromatic surfaces

strike upon the senses

gently.

 

But blue surfaces do

a certain violence to the

Eye.

 

The blueness of bodies, like cities, take place

at the limit, the edge, the contour,

the deep skin.

 

I sometimes feel as though my body

is not entirely within my skin but

extends beyond it.

 

I wonder if I can write the limits of

my skin. If I can, maybe I would

sense the skin of film, too.

 

For writing, Nancy writes, is touching

upon extremity.

 

First attempt:

I am with my body; my body grounds

1. I don’t mistake anyone else’s

body for mine, but I can’t locate

it geometrically.

 

It is certainly somewhere and

surely I am there, too.

 

Second attempt:

The flesh of my body resonates

the flesh of the world.

 

My body is of the carnal world, it

exists as part of the breathing biosphere.

 

Being with my body is a

being-in-the-world.

 

Third attempt:

My body, its touching and being

touched, is the limit and

spacing of existence.

 

This is an areal body,

a video-body, a dis-

placed body.

 

The body that is said to be mine

is of a fine, blue text-

ure.

…
Sander Hölsgens is a London- and Seoul-based independent filmmaker approximating intimacy, the colour blue, and phenomenology.