mahigan.com

Mahigan Lepage

if the universe is really completely self-contained, having no boundary or edge, it would have neither beginning nor end: it would simply be

Stephen Hawking

On the burning asphalts, in the smoking cities, under kerosene skies, to pace out our time, were there only the present.

Journeys in the boiler room of the world. Frictions of bodies and of things. Visions gathered at the crust of experience, in dozens of cities and countries, over dozens of years.

One travels in Earth Terminal as in a shifting mass, expanding, with neither beginning nor end. One unrolls one’s own road by following the veins of matter.

By matter

asphaltskinwaterlightbeerfooddustearthsteelrubberhairironconcretedieselfirerocktobaccoalcoholgasolinestoneplasticfabricleafrainfleshgrimeflowerfruitoilsweatmetalnutneoncitrusbitumenwoodmudbrickcoffeewastefreonsmokemilknylongoldperfumecinder blockbody hairwrinklessteamlightningtreemistchromegasicetargreasegraveltearsmagmamusclestrawpaintpepperpowderpetroleumresinsandsaltsiliconesugarsootteaglasselixirthorns

Spin it, choose a matter

By place

QuitoCuencaGuayaquilMantaTababelaPhuketBangkokHua HinRangoonMandalayBaganMindatMatupiRezuaHakhaGangawKalaymyoMedanBerastagiBaligeJanji RajaTipangNakhon PathomChiang MaiDoi InthanonMae SariangMae Sam LaepChom ThongLampangNanBan Pha MuPhraeUttaraditPhitsanulokPhnom PenhSihanoukvilleKampong ChamKratieBanlungArundelPine HillOttawa

Spin it, choose a place

At random

Touch the board to draw a destination

The Project

Earth Terminal is a long-haul work by Mahigan Lepage. A planetary narrative written from inside a catastrophized era.

Level with the asphalts and the concretes, at the skin of the beaten earth, there is the living that clings to the earth’s crust; active dramas playing out in the instant. Multiplied by a hundred, by a thousand, these micro-narratives would form something like a world – a shifting mass where one could travel.

One advances through Earth Terminal by following the veins of concrete matter: skin, steel, rubber, diesel, hair... For there is no edge, no beyond. There is only the hard crust of experience that runs through places and bodies, times.

Notes on the project

Inventory in progress