“It strikes me that the only way to know this place is through touch. To place myself inside it. Incorporate myself into its compressed landscape. To reside, for a while, within its shattered rooms. Its deserted chambers. To allow my arms and hands to become extensions of its oblique geometries. Gently plug holes and fissures with my own body. To feel it. Observe the impression left upon my skin by its obdurate contours. To bear its scars, clinging like kisses.”
Skelton