by Bartaku

The linen multimeter’s needle trembles when its pointy ends touch the shining tongue. The red, pink and white dotted U-landscape is extruded from the mouth into unstable hands. A ritual quest for enchantment, powered by the eagerness to taste and read the transformation of light into electric flow. The speechless tongue renders the brain ever more active: Is it there? Is it coming? Did it pass? Is it then registered by my subconscious? Three millivolts says the meter! But I don't feel it. Or did I, just now?

Then this is true and that is true.

And in what follows, the continuation of action that is thoughtful, and thought that is active: Shall I swallow or not? Yes, this is the idea (if I understand it correctly). The leftover energy is transported to the power centres of my body for another transformation and the resulting protricity will power my movement and thinking.

With the support of fellow creators, the digestopian-tester tries to keep the blue, red and black coloured photoElectric Digestopian on the tongue. Then, the wobbly and wet agar gelatine – combined with Aronia juice and titanium dioxide – strikes the ceiling of the mouth. The carbon paste that coats the Aronia/flax cracker leaves marks on the two upper front teeth. This bottom part receives incoming electrons and passes them on to the electrolyte. The latter, an anti-diarrhea salt solution for babies and young children, is not perceived. Nor are the INDIAN silver electrodes.

Simultaneously, the thought that “the chokeberry juice and flax seed will torpedo my blood pressure” hit a fellow TpED creator/tester. “Shall I spit it out? No! I swallow!” The Digestopian slides from the tongue, striking the linen trousers at the top of the inner thigh before collapsing on the leather shoe to the right, where the TpED scatters and spreads out, guided by the cotton laces.

Inspiration: Lionel Blaisse (ed.), The Linen Book, CELC Masters of Linen, 2012