Noplace, Oslo proudly presents:

THE MIRACLE OF THE BURNING BUSH, WAS ALL IN YOUR HEAD

Sjur Eide Aas

29.03.19 – 14.04.19

Opening: Friday 29.03.19, 20:00 – 23:00
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Opening hours 14–17, Saturdays and Sundays





It's a distant thought of some growing meaning, in my mind; All that is solid will melt into air. And the place you find yourself, does it have any significance? A place is also just a moment in time. And there is no such thing as a loop of time, time is original. There is no singular chain of events. Everything is connected with everything.

So, I have been down this road before. I know where it leads me, and I can't help but wonder if I had passed by this place just a moment earlier, would the outcome be any different? Is it infinitely unpredictable to say what small changes shape how everything evolves, escalates and ends up, in the end?

There are so many factors, like... timing, “randomness” and the devilish details of all things. Picture yourself witnessing a car crashing into a traffic light and someone dropping an ice cream scoop on the ground, approximately at the same time, but is it possible to break it down into a singular chain of events, leading up to that very moment in time. And how can we ever really explain what is happening? Are the events interlinked? I mean, can we ever know if the ice cream scoop needed to be dropped on the ground for the car to crash, and so on. Sometimes I feel that seemingly insignificant things are actually just as relevant as the grand ones.

It's the questions that drive. If everything that is happening has already happened many times over. Time and time again, in a multitude of worlds within ions of time. All of the worlds that almost were, and the relentless flow of it all. The series of events that needed to occur for us to be here. Like, my grandmother's emigration from a religious sect on the south coast of Norway at the end of the 1930s. That is only one thing that possibly needed to happen for me to be here. And then in a different branch of history, we were never here, and this never happened.

The past is always on the move, and if you run, you're not really moving at all. Have you ever felt like you couldn’t leave, and you couldn’t stay, both at the same time? The other day, a case of claustrophobia came over me, and I needed to get away from it all, everything and everyone I knew. As soon as possible. I got on a plane, leading me to Paris. I think that in my mind I thought that if I only got away somewhere else, anywhere else than here, everything would be OK. So I just left, told nobody, turned off my phone and walk down a new street in a new city, new language. Talked to no one for weeks. Went to museums. Drinking. And I realized; I found the loneliness I had been longing for, in the most romantic city in the world.

To be consumed by the simple things, like the shadows of people walking past in the sun outside on the sidewalk that form outlines of figures on the curtains. Getting lost into it, like it means something. Life itself is training you to let go of the things you love the most so that in the end, the loneliness will not just be a physical pain that hurts all over. I think that at some point there must have been a sudden shift in the logic of the universe for you. And I keep thinking that maybe one day I will see you again, on the street. In my dreams, you are still here. I can see you standing by the curb on the corner of that café with the broken ATM, smiling. Saying -“Hey man!” I miss you.

Lately, I've found myself going through the motions, like you do. Just going through the motions of everyday life. And there's this humming melody playing in my head, over and over again. It goes like this very slow deep humming with a slight vibrating edge. Up and down in spirals, like the pattern waves create hitting the beach, only as a humming sound…




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The exhibition is supported by Arts Council Norway