There is a sudden shriek. A black and white rat called Fox Mulder bites my sister’s finger. For now no one can tell if it is out of spite, hurt, or just by accident. A wide gash yaws on the finger, eight stitches required to close it. Pet status for the rat is revoked. He is relocated to a greenhouse in the orchard, until the bite heals or autumn comes. Fox Mulder runs away in the night and settles in the nest with a wild rat under our neighbour’s pigsty. This we will only learn next spring when the neighbours start ripping out the floorboards. Underneath it they find several litters of pups, some grey wild ones and some patchy black and white.
Towering bedrooms, dozens, maybe even thirty-something of them make up dusty sediment altars. The perimeters of chambers, their floors, the usual desire paths are bitten out of cardboard, or biscuits. The walls, thinner than paper, are in some rooms soft, malleable to touch. In other stories, as if after incessant rat pleas, swarms of wasps constructed domes and columns. Belched out, porous nooks for life and death. Scattered and blackened from decay bone courtyards are always ready for relentless change. Rat’s teeth never stop growing. She scurries between dank warm reek and crisp drafts, stretching doorways’ cob veils through all air ducts.
„Keteros“Emma Bang, Karolina Janulevičiūtė, Monika Janulevičiūtė, Ulijona Odišarija05.23-06.29Medūza
Construction and metalwork: Dominykas Daunys ir Jurgis Paškevičius
Project financed byLietuvos kultūros tarybaNordic Culture Point Mobility Fund
Photography: Laurynas Skeisgiela
Full reportage at KUBAPARIS and ECHOGONEWRONG
