You do not have to reach deep into things, search through drawers which have not been opened for a long time or to go around overcrowded streets of less and less interesting European cities in order to notice another wave approaching on the horizon. By means of the overheard conversation conducted with enthusiasm at a nearby table, press headlines, both in good and worse newspapers, problem related to the exhibition made and seen on the beat, I feel that even by means of the sparrow and the pigeon on the roof we chant again the word which is like a magic spell - Avant-garde. How it was born, who was its mother, was it of one father. How it lived, who/what it was or sometimes only used to be. What it had proven, although nobody understood it, and finally how it died may be easily identified by the means of Internet search engines-copiers. That is the easiest way – click, click, well you know!
However, this avant-garde wave phenomenon still wonders me; the phenomenon, which was evoked once again by some strong underground shock .I remember small shocks, or even only vibrations, when hot, western wind blew in the 90’s, melting bad vanilla ice-cream, served after the long and bloody war by Eastern hosts. Thaw came as usual and brought the world made of vanilla mud as well as local, deadly flooding.

But in the end first spring flowers blossomed, in the colour of grass and grass vapours, with the participation of sunlight. Among them, it seemed that even above them, the sound of rock of many faces thundered strongly.

I remember boots and division between those who took them off before going to work and those who did not. Obviously, those who did not take them off did not win anything. But they were the ones who had unshakable feeling that they live for real, and those who were going to work wearing moccasins, although they wanted to wear boots, were the ones who only poorly faked lives. Wearing boots nowadays is only an easy access to cheap visual style that has become a declaration of ideological approval. It is a kind of ludic presentation with simple game rules. In this game, one can change the flags anytime, as well as influence the wind direction. Both player’s and spectator’s positions are made safe and they do not jeopardize any of the parties. There are no losers and if the show is not very interesting, one can always change the channel, leave the place or look at everybody from the above. This specificity of travelling, without tickets, in all trams round a big roundabout in the city constitutes a colourful world circus which has pitched such a big tent that even inflatable dolls which are led by wind up elephants are drinking plenty of cold champagne in it.

For if we all feel that we are talking from the centre and, paradoxically, from the inside, there are no sides anymore.

I wanted to talk about such a game. For you can notice such games at all backyards, every day and night, without the need of searching through drawers which have not been opened for a long time.

Person from the middle, people from the middle. Everybody in the middle. Everyone in the middle. For in the middle there is like in hit ten.

It is a sad and probably badly painted picture; the picture that many buyers are still striving for with applause.

This kind of totalitarian entity, which constitutes a repeated reversal of this identified evil that led, not so long ago, to mass extermination, stands behind your back. It sits down and stands up together wit you and says do it!!

It is due to this paradoxical totalitarian individualism that we snitch on each other in the belief that the other person would do the same thing. Maybe he has already? We focus megawatts of energy in order to understand this other person, to be ready for both attack and defence. We laboriously pack small scraps into socks and hide them under a heavy stone. We pack our things and never leave. For this other one is still there.

However, there is other, the total other, who, as he is the biggest of all the others, took the form made of millions of threads of information intended just for this other one and also about the other one.

Now not only one of them, but the whole bunch of them stands behind you, sits at the table with you, stands up and says do it!

What is worse, this total other makes you want his love, although you know that he is, but he does not exist for real. He is the one who creates you, but also kills you through faith in him. His house, bought on credit, is being paid down by his whole family. His dog on a chain is barking loudly when his wife, every night, falls asleep with everybody but not with him.

So you understand, as you position yourself in the middle, that whether you want it or not, you are becoming the other one and you are talking to the other one. What is more, you are saying what he expects!

In fact, however, communication aimed only at the exchange of views on common issues allures with the sense of reality. Yet we want to wear boots, for wearing boots strongly defines.

The question is how to create newly-defining forms?

How to create them and not skilfully use a combination of already recognized meanings, in the hope of beautiful pattern formed on the basis of thereof?

Another strong underground shock is needed nowadays as never before, or even worse, as always.

It was not so long ago when all of obviousness and literalities were discriminated or rejected in line with the policy. The entire staff of the army, the highest ranking officers, as well as those sergeant or lieutenant who are the most active, as they hold invisible research tools, can divide with only one whip cut, and are still dividing, into named or easy to be named puzzles

Mandatory written, voluminous registers are still kept in fat safes of puzzles archive. Hardly anyone wants to meander there. One has the impression that even less people, perhaps no one, remember where it all took place.

However, unexpectedly, a black Cat of Doubts, has once again jumped out from the dark street straight onto the back of obviousness.

It is no longer an artist and his show that is obvious, the whole world circus proved to be obvious. Monkeys, parrots and elephants are obvious, lion and flames are obvious. Clown no longer entertains but pisses off and the circus manager who sees it all presents ever wilder shows on stage. A horse is singing, a cow is smoking a cigar, a seal leaves its skin and only an owl, watching it all, is still yawning.

You do not have to reach deep into things, search through drawers which have not been opened for a long time or to go around overcrowded streets of less and less interesting European cities in order to notice a new man. Don’t be under the illusion that all the junk from an old drawer will help you anyhow. They are only products for recycling. Just be careful no to look too long at the sun.

It is such a horse, a wild horse, which throws you off when you climb on its back. It is a wild horse which is running with other horses and not a horse which is running towards the finish line, which is there on time, just for the cube of sugar, for fun and profit. It treats other horses not as brothers but as this other one. It is a horse which would go to work, office and concerts in boots.

It is a horse which will, one night, open iron cages and repaint the sad circus, in which a horse is racing with another horse, although it doesn’t know why.

It will also turn on a green light on the roundabout where all trams are stuck. And it will make the owl stop yawning.