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Space is never neutral.

It orients us,
teaches us how to move,
where to stand,
where to sit,
who belongs.

I am interested in this as choreography.

Learned,
repeated,
absorbed.

Small gestures become habits.
Habits become norms.

I see them as spatial rituals.

As a queer body, I am interested in how these rituals relate to power.

How some bodies feel at home,
while others remain
displaced,
misplaced,
unplaced.

Where do these rituals begin to fail?
When does the body disorient?

I turn this into action.

I follow this into the spaces around the museum and Novi Zagreb.

Walking without a fixed goal.

Paying attention to how space is used,
not as intended,
but as lived.

Small appropriations.
Enacted in passing.

I begin with observing these rituals
and then shifting them.

Cutting across a space
instead of following the path.

Sitting where seating wasn’t intended.

Pausing where movement is expected.

Moving against the flow.

Holding a position
longer than expected.

Unsettling the choreography.
Disorienting the body.

At the same time, I think about cruising.

Cruising in the queer sense.

Tied to desire,
risk,
coded encounters.

Parks, toilets, streets,
edges of visibility.

A way of moving that is
indirect,
attentive,
searching.

Not linear.
Not explicit.

It depends on reading signals,
sensing proximity,
recognizing what is not stated.

It produces space differently.

A way of moving.

Sometimes this involves what is already there.

Objects.
Fragments.
Materials.

Not transformed,
but repositioned.

Slight shifts in relation.

What matters is how this becomes shared.

Walking with others.
Noticing together.

Where does space allow?
Where does it restrict?
Where can it be used differently?

Not to take over space,
but to test it.

To push, gently,
against its limits.