Uncertainty is killing me - though I read as much as I am willing to at this given moment, still I turn myself in the dark. I don’t know enough, I tell myself (Ref. Freud, Das Unheimliche) — asking foreign aids for relieving answers. Still going, going around in circles, reaching the same places day after day in search of a witch. I feel like I am my own sculptor and spectator, rendering not in clay or marble, but in the intangible substance of reverie I create. I am so glad you’re happy and laughing, careless as ever, even though you lost a leg in these recurring fights in the past. This won’t last, I promise. If it does, believe me, it would feel glitchy… after all that’s what I’ve read. Because syntax is better for eternal love and forgiveness, though I am pleading for procrastination and denial. That's why I am levitating in supposedly heimelig surroundings all night. I see myself lying in bed, looking down, tapping triangulars while having the tv on, playing a movie about a murderdoll. Me almost like a disruptive entity — Not really grasping, more converging. 𝒢𝑒𝒹𝓊𝓃𝓀𝑒𝓁𝒻𝓁𝑜𝓍𝓍 𝒪𝒷𝓈𝒾𝒹𝒾𝒶𝓃 manifests as a dissonant echo in the structure of familiar yet paradoxically comforting realms, in the everyday. It embodies an enigma, a cryptic sensation that delineates a clash of fleeting forces. This phenomenon subtly infiltrates known landscapes – those pathways we tread in contemplation, or the mesmerizing venues that ensnare our senses – only to introduce a disquieting anomaly, an amorphous spirit condensing a nebulous darkness. Despite its ominous presence, it contains a deceptive allure, its shine a paradoxical siren call reminding of its presence even when not visible. Yet, why does this entity manifest? It stands as a symbol, a sign of numerous unwelcome and unsettling realities, asserting itself with an unapologetic assertiveness. This entity possesses the serenity of natural havens: a grassy glade alive with a flock of insects in sunlight, a nocturnal forest draped in lunar serenity, or even the mundane normalcy of a residential driveway. What lingers in the psyche of the beholder are fragmented visions, ephemeral reminders of an unsettling occurrence that has scarred the landscape of consciousness time and time again. The 𝔏.𝔒.𝔇 or Level Of Detail (degree of completion or geometric level of detail and level of information) defines the necessary information content and level of detail of digital building models and components. What is a Late-Onset Disease (𝔏.𝔒.𝔇)? Definition. Pathological conditions (Disorder, SYNDROME, or DISEASE) whose SIGNS AND SYMPTOMS manifest late in the life of an individual.  Linked Open Data (𝔏.𝔒.𝔇) refers to freely available data. Open networked data are all datasets that are made freely accessible without any restrictions for free use, redistribution and reuse in the interests of the general public.

⇐ A TERRIBLE DOORSTOP … piles of supposedly litter describing a reality which we all felt would come, subliminally, subconsciously… but refuse to acknowledge. Stepping into a wasteland between the preposterous (1). An intrinsic mess, so terrible you are hardly willing to enter, but at the same time crave for. Rough Skins. The calm before the actual event, a wait for change. Simply stuck inside a story. Suddenly, I saw all these rearranged objects in this uncomfortable situation, from underneath my desk, under piles of shit, cut themselves into ribbons. Some encounters, visible as blinking phones (ready to Be answered). Peasants of tech, buried in litter, mostly charred, weathered, seemingly scarred. Some of them are untested verified objects and material stemming from a peculiar crisis. All those rituals, screaming with wet lungs fanning smoke and haze. Even the sun's rotation is off by unknown degrees. But what do you expect? Endless crippling scenes of us running around in the dark. Holding candles trying to keep them alive in the arising wind (2), just some with flashlights. Reoccurring tools appear– boots to kick ass. And then, as predicted, a cold stormy climate upheaval takes place which dooms everyone. But look, there is still hope, which can be filled with thoughtlessness, fake colors and foremost possibilities. In the future we adore creatures with subtle, rough genitals and small limbs. Species of amnesia. (1) an ordered wasteland, being content with failure, future and past, old and new… (2) Candle scene, NOSTALGHIA (1983), Tarkovsky The duo exhibition "A terrible doorstop" by Markus Sworcik and René Stiegler attempts to sketch a non-functional state and at times suggests a dilemma, a state of limbo. The exhibition juggles intrinsic states of mind, materiality that embodies these impressions, and a penchant for the improvisational. Both artists' interest comes from the scenic, getting lost in atmospheres, creating a sense of space and object. A space that feels different, strange. The intended emotional worlds touch anomalies, fears, inner frictions, dystopias or also fast growing influence by technology. The tipping states addressed are also found in society, and everyday life. Likewise, the objects and works in this exhibition, constructed both individually and collectively, carry emotional threshold states.