The days are turbulent. My thoughts are restless and peaceless. Agitated, they’re like birds of prey, circling incessantly around the word “ineffective.” Sometimes they pounce on it, only to abandon their unfinished meal again. “Selfless,” “intentionless,” “effect-less”—a threesome? A development process? I neglected to ask: what is really meant? What does ineffectiveness refer to? To the person? To their act? Are we talking about the ‘I’? Is it I who, incapable of being selfless and hardly ever able to relinquish an intention, impose ineffectiveness on myself or strive for it? It cannot mean disavowing or withdrawing from the effect of my actions. That would be tantamount to irresponsibility, wouldn’t it? So, if no backing down, what then?
Could ineffectiveness even exist, because aiming for it seems absurd? But what would happen to selfless, intentionless action if it also became ineffective? I can (rarely) refrain from will. Devotion, renunciation, surrender, letting things happen—all of this was still within the realm of my possibilities a moment ago (at least conceivably), but I cannot rid myself of an effect. Surely it is beyond my grasp? I can lose myself, but doesn’t a loss also have an effect? I have an effect with every breath I take. Every thought, every word, every feeling, sensation, and perception has an effect. How? I only have limited influence, and yet there is a connection.

Translation Laura Liska
From Cornflower Blue – Notes on an Aesthetic Practice “Sprechen lernen” [Learning to Speak], prologue to publications from the Institute for Aesthetic Practice.








