aantitoc
Searching for a room at Librería Terranova
Book presentation + exhibition + flyer and poem bookmark design
January 2025
Last I heard they had walked into a flame,
in hand me down clothes, made out of water
like spitting on a wound
they kept on walking,
never realising their condition,
never realising they were drowning.
Their neck,
grew long and longer
thinner than a hair .
Paled at the sight of wonder,
their head hung low over the shore.
There’s only so much weight one can carry before dawn dictates rest.
And only so much ivy one can force.
So now you think you’re free and now you think you’ve done it,
well let me tell the one who listens;
there’s a pond filled up with blood, and just one lonely feather has landed a top.
Like a car crash you can’t look away from,
this room you have been searching is built from skin and bone.
When you try to hold yourself and open your palm, does it become fog?
When you try to reach for a wall to crash onto does it hold a square?
I remember your lover breaking
4
Cursed corners
remember how you became a circle?
A circle in a nest
and the birds understood every shape you formed,
rumours spoke of a snake
and the trees were tender.
Hello old friend, this is as bright as it gets.
Poem by Amalia Mitina
Showcase design together with Yannis Konstantinos, Diego Saiz and Julia Rodriguez
Drinks by Jil Zander
Project curated playlist
in hand me down clothes, made out of water
like spitting on a wound
they kept on walking,
never realising their condition,
never realising they were drowning.
Their neck,
grew long and longer
thinner than a hair .
Paled at the sight of wonder,
their head hung low over the shore.
There’s only so much weight one can carry before dawn dictates rest.
And only so much ivy one can force.
So now you think you’re free and now you think you’ve done it,
well let me tell the one who listens;
there’s a pond filled up with blood, and just one lonely feather has landed a top.
Like a car crash you can’t look away from,
this room you have been searching is built from skin and bone.
When you try to hold yourself and open your palm, does it become fog?
When you try to reach for a wall to crash onto does it hold a square?
I remember your lover breaking
4
Cursed corners
remember how you became a circle?
A circle in a nest
and the birds understood every shape you formed,
rumours spoke of a snake
and the trees were tender.
Hello old friend, this is as bright as it gets.
Poem by Amalia Mitina
Showcase design together with Yannis Konstantinos, Diego Saiz and Julia Rodriguez
Drinks by Jil Zander
Project curated playlist