Submission
Aitor González

A bark in the night woke me up to a bed with no sheets


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Aitor González, Untitled (Go in the dark) #1, 2022, Roof sealant on canvas, 17 x 22 cm
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Aitor González, Untitled (Go in the dark) #2, 2022, Roof sealant on canvas, 17 x 22 cm
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Aitor González, Untitled #7, 2021, Ink and coloured sharpie on paper, 28 x 22 cm (framed)
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“It’s coming from inside the house,” you say one afternoon. We start laughing uncontrollably. We don’t understand exactly what this means but we hang on to almost recognising these words and how they might make us feel. 
From inside the house – like from inside your chest. Like someone inside is a traitor and can’t be trusted. Like an embrace which is loving, constricting, forceful, familiar, filling. 

You wake up in the night and type down your dream in the notes. 

In the dream, we are drifting between animal and human, between observing and being observed. We enjoy ourselves. We are in many time frames at once. We eat blueberries and learn how to speak – and at that, paradise ends. 

As a deepest expression of love, we will place our bodies in an arrangement of connected rooms. We will stay there for years. We will call it home. We will exist in close proximity to each other in this space full of beautiful objects. Like a chair carefully constructed from soft leather and metal, a glass table, and a little sculpture which still bears the traces of someone’s fingertips. We will keep our queer grief as a pet. 

Imagine us, outside, in the night. Instead of sleeping, we are elegantly violently relentlessly moving over the fragrant grounds. The thorns, the dirt, the big gentle fig trees. Scorpions with long poisonous braids of shiny spiky tails. We recognise them as family. 

Tonight, we hold hands behind closed doors. Eyes of a devoted, kind, excited puppy. Good boy. The world on the other side of the window expands, then clenches. Heart races, then slows down. A dot to conclude the dreamscape. 

There is a house and inside the house you – sleeping. 

Anastasiia Fedorova, 2022

Aitor González (b. 1994, Valencia), a Quechua/Spanish artist, lives and works in London. He studied Fine Arts at the Universitat Politecnica de Valencia and the University of Leeds. Recently he was included in The Manchester Contemporary and an accompanying exhibition Grey Area (curated by Kevin Hunt), PINK, Manchester (2021); and Preparations (curated by LateWorks), Cafe OTO, London. In addition to his solo exhibition at robert’s, Glasgow (2022) he is working on an artist’s book with Forma Editions.

Anastasiia Fedorova is a writer and curator based in London. She is a regular contributor to Dazed, i-D, Kaleidoscope Magazine and 032c among other titles. In her writing and research, she specialises in photography, fashion, art and contemporary visual culture. A large amount of her work is dedicated to exploring queer communities, the ways they are archived and documented, and the poetic and radical potential of queer love and sex.