In our final week, we focused on preparing the making-of event, thinking about how we want to share the different layers of our research with the public. We worked on four elements: sound composition, video/3D material, individual writings, and dance.

Our main focus was on formulation and translation: how can we anchor the complex layers of our research for public sharing, and what formats can provide space for that?
Another aspect that accompanied us from the start was the question of how to situate our research within the context of current political events—wars and genocides taking place—and how to create a space for collective reflection on the role of Western hegemony and our differing layers of responsibility in relation to it. This included looking back at the violent legacy of European colonization and recognizing how it continues to manifest today.

Writing became a central practice for us this week, blending political realities with personal memories, dreams, and griefs.

Two separate texts were written.
One reflected on the conformation of “real audiencia de charcas” during the colonial period specifically in Bolivia. Understanding this period as relevant for the resistance that indigenous people built and how this is currently part of our discourse when it´s about decoloniality. How the implementation of statehood questioned and changed/ separated completely a cosmovision that was working together with what Ayllu (community) means.

The other text used magical realism to reflect on the Kurdish liberation movement, the ongoing imperial and colonial projects in the Middle East that bring destruction and dehumanization, as well as autobiographical material, family memories, and the idea of mountains as archives and witnesses.

What describes our approach could be called a memoir—not only one that speaks about the past, but also about the future. This was reflected not only in our writings, but also in the sound composition we created, the 3D world, and our short video collages.
In the 3D animation work our thoughts were the relationality of the landscape: how objects that enter or inhabit the space, make it deeply personal. It creates a space where the interconnectedness of the physical world can be touched, visited, seen with our own eyes, and a symbolic space that lies underneath the surface.
The landscape isn’t neutral. it holds memory, pressure, and presence. it should be felt – just as it sometimes feels us, even when we do not aim to be seen or remembered in certain ways.

so the landscape is also a witness and a participant, a fabric that is dynamic and expanding.
like the archive, it’s a continuum.

In the practice of worldbuilding, there is an already set of questions to begin with.

But what do those questions look like, when the world we are building is based on embodied knowledge and resistance practices? That's when the concept of critical fabulation, created by Sadiyah Hartman, as a method, opens up a liminal space – at the edge of presence and absence – where the rules of worldbuilding can be reimagined.

Working with 3D scanning feels like taking a photograph of a current moment (another kind of archive), but instead it’s marking a moment of disappearance.
Each scan captures millions of points that the camera picks up on the surface of the object – as if mapping a landscape. the digital version of the object or a scene becomes a whole environment, composed of every particle that entered the view in that moment. it’s precise, but also fragile.

The outcome is always less than expected, like it is touched by loss and decay. by using these porous, incomplete scans and building a landscape within them, thinking about what was felt, imagined, or lost. Through this process, a new image appears and it reminds us that the archive is never complete or closed. by merging 3D scans into a digital landscape, the concept of felt spatiality is reflected upon: space that isn’t objective or fixed, but subjectively felt, emotional, and relational.

while floating through the folds, elevations, gaps and descents, we are pulled and held back.
The surfaces are slippery. the textures are missing. glossy, reflective materials mirror, distort, reveal –  and through their multiplication, they protect from the extractive gaze.

switching between color-scapes causes a shift in temporality: lingering twilight purple, ash lilac, as seen at the edge of a sun hour on the vast Kurdish sky; dust particles breaking light into a color that shouldnt exist, yet does. and dusty, mineral-rich ochre brown – like the sun- worn terrain of a highland Andean village.

we are moving between a memory and a present feeling.
The world we are shaping speaks its own language, made from symbols, weather, gestures, and all the conversations we have had over this past month.
It is a shared terrain, made from remembering and imagining together.