It is not the wound that matters. It is the scar.

I come up to one of the men in the audience and kneel down behind him. I tie my right foot to his with a bandage. I do the same with our left feet and continue to tie our whole bodies together. I wrap a bandage around my head, so only my hands remain visible. Finally I also hide my hands underneath the bandage and stop any activity, so only the man remains visible. There is silence.

After a while the curator or members of the audience assume the performance is over and start to free us from the bandage. Yet when they finish I do not let go of the man and cling to him instead. When he tries to get rid of me I hold on to him as strongly as I can.

In different situations I experience a variety of reactions from my performance partners:
He decides to carry me out of the room on his back.
He does not act to end the situation and lets me embrace him for next four hours.
He turns around to face me and hugs me firmly.
He uses force to get rid of me.

Collection: Muzeum Sztuki, Łódź