1.11. — 7.12.2025

I’ve been absolutely covered with masses and masses of water for centuries.
So did I notice when my right foot went missing? No, I did not. Frankly,
it’s not the only body part missing. 🙂 I haven’t seen my nose,
or what one sees of one’s nose, since sinking and my other arm is quite gone.
Those are the first things to go -limbs, ears and noses. Parts that stick out.
I have let them go without regrets.

In the waters missing a foot hardly matters since you’re not touching the
ground anyway. Even between two smallest grains of sand, or the tightest embrace
between lovers, an interval of space.
A loose fit glove, if you will.

I’ve had to familiarise myself with the feeling of sogginess. Which,
I don’t mind telling you, is nothing like touching stone. See I used to have
a pedestal of my own. Can’t get more grounded than that, can you!
Colours too, they change here. But what do I care what something was.
It doesn’t matter since all I know is now and now is every colour I knew
seen through a glass.

Sometimes I wonder if the hands of my maker still remember me, as I remember them.
Look, this is what has become of me: my consumed hand reaching from the depths
towards an occasional diver. I’m porous by now, as you can imagine, and there’s no
difference between myself and whatever everything else is.
That’s the trick of being eternal, if you’ve ever wondered.
Anyway, thanks for reaching out and do take care of what holds you.

Aino Lintunen (b. 1990) is a visual artist based in Helsinki. She works with the methods of
process-based painting, drawing and writing. Lintunen holds an MFA from the Academy
of Fine Arts, Uniarts Helsinki (2022) and an MA from Aalto University (2016).
The exhibition is supported by Arts Promotion Centre Finland.