Kristian Skylstad "Wane aneW"


Åpning 8. mars 21.00
lør 9. og søn 10. 12.00-17.00
lør 16. og søn 17. 12.00-17.00



You can explode when sitting down and you can explode when running
around you can have birthday on
a terrible day and you can have birthday on a splendid
day you
can fall in love on balconies in forests and you can fall in love on
splitting trains

You can have toast and you can have butter and jam
you can wake up in a coma and you can wake up in a
memory of flowers and other plants
you can try to ascend pure air and you can fail big
time you can reach for glory and
you can complicate the universal
you can come in black and you can distract the obvious
you can travel Greenland and you can make time for
the grand things you can see the
purpose of all the violins that we hold and you can force yourself to feel
better you can discard the past
and you can explain the future
you can sing and you can roar
and you can splash
and wave


They were forbidden to play Wolfenstein 3D when home alone, when only
themselves at the keyboard. Usually such a rule was fully respected, but as
they grew older every day their curiosity needed more constant stimulants,
tiny rushes like the ones the screen offered. So when father went down for
groceries or a likewise triviality, they knew they had time to break the
rule. The computer was turned on from fooling around on the desktop, the
opportunity was obvious and as soon as the door was shut they met in front
of the screen as if summoned by collective thought and urge of rush. The
game was opened. The seconds felt like miniature minutes. Loading. It was
set, they were moments away from pushing boundaries away from childhood.
Their hearts felt ready to explode, easily synchronizing in vital beats.
The gates were opened and Wolfenstein entered his eternal world of stone
halls and metal swing doors. They exchanged dreadful looks and settled on
who did what. The oldest did the controlling, the youngest did the
watching. The fear was all the same. Fear does not pay attention to
details. Minutes started flowing. Wolfenstein got frenzied. They were
surprised how effective he was today. He laid down germs like germs lay
down patients. A routine was established. A practice was created.
Wolfenstein went from usually lazy to casually potent. Great powers. Great
reflexes (if you can talk about reflexes when really talking about pixels
and kilobytes when really really talking about zero’s and one’s). anyway
the drive that led them to the final stage was somehow managed through a
kind of juvenile confidence, and I don’t have to tell you how this kind of
confidence is the strongest. At this point, it was pivotal. Way way pivotal
peaky peaky pivotal. Excitement like you can’t imagine. Alright easy on the
adverbs easy on the tongue. They knew it was a matter of time before father
came back and they knew it was also a matter of time before one of the
doors they were constantly opening was putting them face to face with the
boss. A matter of time. They kept on opening. It was all they did. And the
it happened. He was there. It was there. Right there in front of them and
what horror. What absolute start flashed through their bodies like perfect
thunder. Beyond shock. the words they said were far from making sense, it
was sounds and blurbs of expression that tried to equal the excitement
inside. And then the oldest realised the horror. The horrible horror the
truth. They were without the mini-gun. The only weapon that could lead them
to victory. The mini-gun. The metal blaster. The p in pain. El Bastardo.
Hope was lost. Fear had won. Paranoia succeeded and the feeling of being on
the wrong side of the river set in like firework. Hearts racing. hearts
chasing. Fuck. They done something wrong. Fuck. They did it wrong. If only
the door would open. If only the mini-gun was found. Fuck. And that is how
it went.

-Louis Scherfig