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Mirjam Kroker

@kromirjam

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artist & research ecologies
🪐 🖤🌊🪐🌊🖤
no to war! not in my name!
Grupo de estudio/ Estéticas de la paz y tácticas de deserción @museoreinasofia
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& again #planetaryconsciousnessofpeace #freegaza #cosmicconcerns by @kromirjam
2
a year ago
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And others say: If contemporary theory takes life as the main topic, maybe even the only topic beyond thinking, if contemporary art conceptualizes life as live thus turnes it into an artistic gesture, then if it is actually given significance, then there is a deep complicity between contemporary theory & contemporary art 🖤 #transformativeaction, #complicity, #art&theory #life, #contemporarylife, #directexperienceofthepresence, #complicity, #inotherwords, #artasformoflife, #gaze, #infestigatingexaminating #incomprehensible #initialpenomenon, #infinityofreason, #onando, #withdraw #transformativenotionofdiscourse, #groys, #transformativeworld, #shiftingera, moving image, #lifeasanprofessionalartform, #practicinglifeasmakingart, #otherway #mirjamkroker #🖤 taken in Life by @kromirjam
2
5 years ago
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CARRYING A HANDFUL OF SOIL ACROSS THREE BORDERS, KNOWING ITS FREEDOM AND YOURS? What if freedom is the soil itself, breaking apart borders before they are even drawn, resisting ownership before it can even be claimed? What does it mean to hold freedom in the palm of a hand, to hold a history of resistance, of survival, of ancient, quiet revolutions? Can soil know freedom? Or is it the one holding it who must confront the reality of what freedom really means? Is freedom something that can be grasped, or is it something that slips away the moment it’s defined, the moment it’s boxed, the moment it’s labeled and claimed? Is this movement resistance? Is this crossing an act of defiance, or just the inevitable flow of something that cannot be stopped, cannot be controlled, cannot be mapped? CARRYING A HANDFUL OF SOIL ACROSS THREE BORDERS, KNOWING ITS FREEDOM AND YOURS? When is a border not a border? When is a line not a line? When is soil not soil? When is freedom not freedom? What is carried across borders—the soil, or the violence of those who try to contain it? What if the soil is the resistance? What if it has always been? What if the real question is not about ownership, but about how to unlearn ownership? What if soil knows what no human can ever know—that freedom is the one thing that cannot be contained, and the one thing that is always, already, everywhere, slipping through fingers, through borders, through time? CARRYING A HANDFUL OF SOIL ACROSS THREE BORDERS, KNOWING ITS FREEDOM AND YOURS? What does it mean to hold it? What does it mean to be held by it? What does it mean to cross with it, to move through time and space, to undo everything that would dare separate it from the earth? What if the act of carrying soil is not an act of possession, but an act of forgetting? What if it’s the soil that carries you, and not the other way around? What does it mean to be free when the soil is already free, when the borders are already forgotten, when history is already undone, when the only thing that remains is the earth and the pulse of its refusal to be divided? CARRYING A HANDFUL OF SOIL ACROSS THREE BORDERS, KNOWING ITS FREEDOM AND YOURS? #soil #freefom taken in Soil by @kromirjam
3
2 years ago
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by @kromirjam
0
2 days ago
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To love is to leak. To leak is to refuse containment. To refuse containment is to touch eternity. Leakage is not an accident of bodies— It is their ontology. Every kiss escapes the mouth that gives it, every embrace dissolves the line between skins, every breath migrates, trespasses, infiltrates. The law would name this otherwise. It would fix intimacy with contracts, stabilize desire with titles, erect borders where fluids already flow. But desire is a refusal of definiteness: its archive is sweat, its record is stains, its continuity is the leak itself. Definite forms are eternally leaking over time. This is why permanence is impossible, why possession collapses, why eternity is not endurance but overflow. Definiteness is juridical fiction To leak is to betray the fiction of the definite. To leak is to inhabit relation as erosion, to live where borders blur, to let matter confess its instability. From this leaking, which is also love, learning  the most subversive truth: definite forms do not exist— only the traces of what has already overflowed. Definite forms are eternally leaking over time. And from this leaking, which is also love, the most fragile certainty: definite forms do not exist! DEFINITE FORMS  ARE  ETERNALLY  LEAKING  OVER  TIME *And our bodies are the evidence. #love #eternally #leaking #handkrit #mikroessay by @kromirjam
2
14 days ago
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FLYING DOCUMENTS Special Edition, 2025–26 Volume I: Thinking of an Embrace Flying Documents nace de una investigación en curso en torno a Document Drawings y Planetary Document Drawings: imágenes, frases, fragmentos, registros y la extraña autoridad de las cosas que se hacen llamar documentos? Este volumen nunca fue pensado para ser encuadernado. Sus documentos son interdependientemente libres. Pertenecen juntos sin tener que permanecer juntos. Pueden separarse, circular, cambiar de manos, desaparecer en distintas habitaciones, distintas ciudades, distintas vidas — y seguir constituyendo un mismo volumen. El volumen no desaparece cuando sus partes se alejan. Simplemente existe en otra parte: entre distintos lugares, distintas manos. Un volumen que puede convertirse en una edición multisituada; quizá también en una exposición multisituada. Sus partes pueden habitar lugares distintos y seguir perteneciendo al mismo volumen. Cada Flying Document puede abandonar el volumen sin abandonarlo. Aquí, 8 documentos de FLYING DOCUMRNTS Volume I: Thinking of an Embrace. and again what others say: “The world is held together, really it is held together, by the love and the passion of a very few people.” — James Baldwin #lastangleofhistory #planetarydocumentdrawing #embrace #document #interdependentlyfree by @kromirjam
0
a month ago
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LE PLI / minimal_accomodation shelter_books, Vol. III, 2018 ¿Qué pasa cuando un pliegue se convierte en refugio? Un pliegue no solo da refugio; es tanto su propio límite como su propia escapatoria. Se niega a cerrarse, negándose a dar refugio en cualquier sentido convencional. El pliegue no es un límite—es una membrana que respira, una estructura construida no con la intención de proteger, sino para exponer la imposibilidad de protección misma. LE PLI / minimal_accomodation is Volume III of the shelter_books series. The work takes Gilles Deleuze's Le Pli. Leibniz et le Baroque (1988) as its conceptual and material point of departure. Deleuze's study of the philosophy of Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz develops the fold as a fundamental figure of the Baroque: matter, perception, body and thought are understood through processes of folding, unfolding and refolding, in which interior and exterior, surface and depth, remain continuously implicated in one another. The book itself becomes the site of this operation. A complete copy of Deleuze's volume is opened out, materially compressed and repeatedly crumpled, then held together with pink masking tape. The accumulation of folds transforms the sequential surface of the book into a dense, three-dimensional volume. Its legibility is progressively displaced by spatiality: the book ceases to function solely as an object of reading and becomes an object of enclosure, occupation and potential shelter. The fold is therefore treated not as an image or metaphor, but as a material and architectural one. Compression reduces the book's readable surface while simultaneously producing volume, cavities, thresholds and an interior condition. The work occupies the threshold between book and architecture, text and object, surface and volume, protection and confinement. The title refers simultaneously to accommodation as shelter and to accommodation as adaptation: the capacity of a body to adjust itself to a given spatial condition. The work proposes the book as a minimal architecture — a compressed structure in which thought, matter and bodily space become materially entangled. #lepli #minimalaccommodation #shelter #artistbook #🖤 by @kromirjam
0
2 months ago
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Twenty-four hours later, I am still inside the eclipse condition. Still intensely alert. Still feeling that something has shifted, though I have no language for what exactly. As if, for one impossible moment, the planet a body we were inside. And now I can’t stop thinking: How do we hold the feeling of planetary intimacy in a time of planetary violence? What does it mean to feel—if only for the infinity of a moment—that we are part of one moving body, while borders harden, armies expand, territories burn, and the Earth is treated as something to possess? What would it mean to take seriously what the eclipse revealed so effortlessly: There is no outside of the planet. How do we remain capable of wonder without turning wonder into escape? And perhaps the most burning question: What if the passport we carried was not a document assigning us to a nation, but a reminder that the only territory all beings inhabit is a moving planet? #caboortegal #totaleclipseofthesun #eclipse #planetary #planetaryintimacy by @kromirjam
0
2 months ago
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For the infinity of a moment, I forgot everything except the alignment. The Earth moving. My body moving with it — an infinitesimal piece of its territory. The Moon crossing the unimaginable distance between Earth and Sun until three bodies became one line. And suddenly I was not looking at the eclipse, but inside it: a microscopic point of a planetary body, held in the same geometry as the Moon and the Sun. The personal, the urgent, the endlessly accumulated noise of being a person — all of it lost its authority. There was only this large intimacy: body with planet, planet with Moon, Moon with Sun. And the body knew where it was — without asking, without thinking, without doubting, without needing to know. For the infinity of a moment a total Eclipse of the sun #totaleclipse #eclipse #2026プレ花嫁 #august #aligent by @kromirjam
11
2 months ago
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taken in Athens, Greece by @kromirjam
0
4 months ago
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Consciousness and love are not stable entities; they are what the mind becomes when it can no longer stay the same. And perhaps their only constant is that they never arrive? They keep happening! Somewhere, Somehow! Specific! #nomadicintimacies #intimacy #conciousness #different #love What fascinates me in the more elaborate vocabularies of Buddhist and Sanskrit psychology is not their abundance, but their architecture: a willingness to treat the mind as multiple from the outset. Terms like citta, vijñāna, manas, buddhi don’t compete — they map different modes of awareness, different configurations of how experience comes into being. And the same multiplicity appears in the language of love: prema, kāma, sneha, bhakti, each marking a distinct orientation rather than a different intensity. It’s not about naming more; it’s about recognising that the inner world does not move in one direction. These vocabularies don’t define consciousness and love — they trace the different ways both carry and inhabit. And sometimes I wonder: if I had a language that assumed plurality from the start, how differently would I recognize myself? #nomadicintimacies taken in Intimacy by @kromirjam
2
a year ago
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If I can’t, I won’t - If I don’t, I will (Unshared Territories of Imagined Communities) If I can’t, I won’t. If I don’t, I will (unshared territories of imagined communities) A refusal that unfolds into a necessity, a necessity that folds back into refusal. What does this oscillation reveal about the ‘imagined communities’ that condition our bodies, our gestures, our possibilities? Benedict Anderson described nations as i m a g i n e d  c o m m u n i t i e s —constructed affinities held together by symbols, narratives, in- and exclusions. This work borrows that notion, but reconfigures it through refusal. As affirmative refusal that reverberates across different contexts, adapting to prohibitions that mark the limits of belonging. This open volume of index cards refers to laws from different states that forbid certain fundamental rights—laws that regulate who may dance, sing, love, and plant and under what conditions. Doings that are so significant for maintaining community they should not require any permission, yet they are denied to certain bodies in certain places on different scales. These restrictions gathered here, do not name their territories (nation states); they move away from exclusion across geographies. They are small enough to be carried across borders and smuggled from hand to hand, continued, altered. With the possibility that each encounter contributes to the open-ended-volume.  The cards are like vessels for recognising architectures of control—how the nation-state is not only imagined but enforced, embedded in the gestures it allows or forbids. But if the restriction is also an opening, if the prohibition reveals its undoing, then the loop continues: If I can’t, I won’t. If I don’t, I will. ​ Where does the impossibility fracture? Where does the prohibition turn porous? Where does the unshared dissolve? year: open ended since 2024 material: index cards, carrier object #impossibility #imaginedcommunity #lovewhoichoose #palestinianradiostation #protest #estéticadelapaz #decercion #openended #aslongasiamalive by @kromirjam
0
a year ago
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