SOCIOPLEASURE

the Fierce Luxury of the Ephemeral

I let it fall—
celluloid like water.
Time falling.
My voice forming in the fall,
between bodies.

Pleasure not held,
only passed
then gone.

I build this installation from celluloid, letting it spill from the ceiling and gather like a waterfall.

The material is fragile: sensitive to heat, to light, to touch. It changes as it hangs. What looks fluid is recorded; what feels continuous is already breaking down. 

I’m not interested in capturing time.

I want to remain with it as it slips, as it thins, as it leaves. 

The waterfall never arrives anywhere; it only falls.

In that falling, my voice becomes porous.

It doesn’t speak from above or outside,

but emerges through proximity: through shared darkness,

shared sound, shared duration with those who enter the work.

The pleasure I’m searching for is not instant.

It doesn’t resolve.

It unfolds slowly in attention —

through the quiet intensity of being together

while knowing it cannot last.

In a culture of constant enjoyment,

pleasure is often treated as something to achieve —

an experience to claim and complete.

Here, I interrupt the demand for immediacy

and make room for another kind of pleasure:

collective, fragile, and deeply ephemeral —

something to share and release.

Here, pleasure is not an object.

It cannot be taken away.

It circulates between bodies, material, and time.

The waterfall becomes a place to linger,

to notice one another, to feel how intimacy can appear —

briefly, fiercely —

then dissolve back into the dark.