To-Day / A Noite, September 2nd

I am thinking of the body and its relationship with the format of a newspaper, in proportion to the size of our open hands and our fingers flipping through the pages. Recently, I learned how to make paper from scratch and realized that the frames used to gather the paper are also related to body proportions, designed to be carried by a person with both arms. In the process of papermaking, the sound of water is always present, as well as the sound of machines pressing the pulp to remove the water, in order to obtain the skin of a sheet of paper.

This is perhaps the beginning of the grid – the body.

This text was handwritten in a blank notebook, so the grid depends on my ability to write in a straight line. The initial pages are very tight and orderly, but I realize that emotions, which disturb my hand, alter my writing.

I don’t have an eraser, so I just cross out certain parts and make notes for the future of this text, when it will be transcribed to my computer, by these very fingers.

Then, on the computer, all the words will suddenly have the potential to be replaced, rearranged, and deleted, and the result of this text will also be dictated by the suggestions of digital dictionaries, thesauri, and search engines. The text on the computer exists in a parallel grid, the grid of infinite variations and endless change.

The time when the news was first read on paper has come to an end.