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There is no horizons, only waves

"Ved å plassere besøkeren midt i denne samtidig sanselige og symbolladde scenografien, inviterer Blix til undring over den ustabile grensen mellom oss og de større systemene vi er del av."

Hilde Sørstrøm, Kunstkritikk, 2020

There is no horizons, only waves


Silisium, jern, glass, cyanobakterier, termofuru, silke og sand.

Varierende dimensjoner


The Secret

by Marion Bouvier

Proofread by Kristina Primakova

There is a secret in this maze that only those who accept that logic and emotions are not antagonistic can decipher.

I prick my ears up, raise up my nose and inhale deeply. I smell in stereo like bats see in stereo, with their ears. The scent leads my whole body, my strong thigh muscles, which allow me to jump far away from predators, they are just following the different fragrances like a tangible, silk thread.


There is the multilayered smell of pine; it is almost like freshly cooked, still warm and slightly crusty bread, with a hint of the rich, fungi-clad earth of forest. This pine smell makes my nose tickle with its depth; it is probably artificially made, heated with a high moisture level to make it stronger, hence the density of its odor. I follow it, for it is new and exciting, smells of forests but floors of concrete, typical of human habitats.

It is a structure, I run around its contours first to establish a shape.

There is no clear shape.

There is a circle, with ups and downs like waves, like the burning disc in the sky, like the tiny holes in which I squeeze my body to hide from humans.

It is a large circle, smelling strongly of pinewood, soft and smooth on the top, slightly rough and ridged on its sides, something has been done to it.

Human intervention, and my own: I can’t resist grinding my incisors on the hard wood, it feels good and right, biting and leaving small crumbles of odorous pine that soften under my paws.

I go to the center of the structure and have to turn on myself and sway my head left and right to get a good overview of it. It is made of many pieces, all different, and together they become one. It reminds me of our mischief, together as one, forming networks of protection. We tell one another the secrets of your abodes.


Keep living with your eyes closed to the silence, human.

The Secret in exhibition

There is more to this room, there is a looming form that emits only a very faint smell. I have felt that taste in water before, maybe in some plants when swimming in the canal. I am unsure. It casts a large shadow, something that would usually be an alarm signal for my peers. Nothing like exploring though, nothing like the feeling of discovering newness, one territory at a time.

My heart beating fast, ready to run, I approach carefully. I flatten my ears, lower my stance, look around. Nothing moves, nothing breathes. And still this strange absence of a clear smell. The closest I can think of is the metal humans use everywhere in coagulated masses: the balancing wires, the echoing tubes, the corrugated plates, and their clunky sounds.

Maybe it is just a mountain, but upon closer inspection, it shines in multiple colors. Its surface looks like rivers ran onto it, a long time ago – maybe. It has pinks and greens and, underneath it all, a sort of profound greyness that reflects light as well.

Dare I climb it?

The grip is easy, the texture is jagged, sharp in places, and composed of tiny crystals that remind me of sand.

Grains and grains and grains, compacted, tighter and tighter, fusing to solidity.

Nothing is lost, nothing is created, everything is transformed. The force of transformation courses through me as well.

My body is as strong as this rock, although softer, more pliable, breathing faster. This rock has particles that can maybe exhale oxygen and inhale carbon dioxide, I exhale carbon dioxide and inhale carbon dioxide, all is one. Breathe.


All is one.

Could the glittering mountain rock have a relation with the next elements I spot, strange patterns floating in mid-air, like a cloud of pollens in close formation, or tiny, angry insects rising from the ground as one?

There is a secret to this maze that resembles the ordered chaos of the universe.

The strange blue-green creatures, in multiple variations, look at me with no interest. I get closer, and I have no fear. I see they are smaller than me, they do not breathe, they do not have shadows. They seem suspended in time, completely immobile, frozen in time and space.

Cousins to fungi? Their extremities form filaments that bend and twist in delicate shapes. Each one is different, but their smell is the same, an iodine perfume. Water creatures, preserved in dried liquid. They wait for their hour to grow again, part infinitely within themselves, always one and many.

I bite a tiny piece of the thin envelope that surrounds the ghost clouds, it may be edible. My body tolerates small doses of most poisons and it makes my immune system stronger along the way. No wave of sickness comes from this tasteless cookie.

Crunch crunch.

Just food for thought.

Further, further is another piece of the mystery the humans have set up. I am quite certain I am in a place they call “lab”, at this point. Where else would there be such elaborate games and they would let me run freely among them?

There is a wall, and a large piece of fabric hanging from it. I know what fabric tastes like, humans and their pet mammals blanket themselves in it, and have it everywhere in their lairs. I do not need to take a bite to know it is edible but uninteresting.

This one is rugged, with textures that keep changing under my paws as I climb the intriguing curtain. The smell of pine is pungent again, an earthy scent shines through, and a salty undercurrent gives the whole a dose of coherence.


I feel like I have come to the end of a circle.

And what is the end of a circle

but a new beginning?

The maze has a secret that whispers about the origins of matter.

Let’s start all over again.

There is no horizons, only waves


Silisium, jern, glass, cyanobakterier, termofuru, silke og sand.

Varierende dimensjoner


De ulike elementene i installasjonen til Blix tyder på en sammenkobling mellom kunst og vitenskap. Særlig illustrasjonene og den innglasserte massen inviterer publikum til å innta et forskerblikk og studere på nært hold, samtidig som en avstand er gjennomgående i verket; ingen tekst eller anvisning forklarer hva vi ser. Vi må selv supplere med egen fantasi.

There is no horizons, only waves


Silisium, jern, glass, cyanobakterier, termofuru, silke og sand.

Varierende dimensjoner


"Steinskulpturen som består av en tykk, halvt oppstilt steintavle som kaster skygger i sanden, kunne kanskje vekt assosiasjoner til noe religiøst, som et opphøyd, lyssatt alter. Men det er likevel noe med helheten den går inn i; materialene og formene, som heller uttrykker noe grunnleggende. Dette grunnleggende framheves gjennom steinen, treskulpturen og en «mikroskopstudie» som presenteres på veggen hvor det prosjekteres detaljerte illustrasjoner. De ligner hverandre og glir over i hverandre som runde former med et pigmentert innhold som nærmest blør utover. Det er vanskelig å si om det er ulike objekter, eller om det er de samme som studeres over tid og viser endring."

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Utdrag fra prosessen 2018 - 2020

Utstillingen Post Exit – The Gardens of Liminality, kuratert av Karolin Tampere og Vsevolod Kovalevskij 19.09.2020 – 09.10.2020

Les mer om utstillingen på her.


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