· composer · sound artist · london · oxford ·

'How many eyes do we have then, being two? Certainly we each keep our two eyes. But we probably have more eyes, one or two: to contemplate invisibility in the visible, in the light of the day, but also to perceive in the night of interiority. The way of looking will be more contemplative, passive as well as active, capable of discovering an other or a world always unknown. What it is to see is not already defined, and our eyes can thus remain open upon an infinity of views, of sights. Our way of looking, our look itself can unceasingly be born again if we consider the other as other, with respect for the mystery of the difference existing between us. Indeed it prevents us from reducing him, or her, to an object or to an image that we can appropriate, take as a part of our own world, of our own self. A gesture that paralyses the becoming of each subject and finally brings death to the two subjects, the looked at and the one looking, including the death of sight.' 

Luce Irigaray, 'Being two, how many eyes have we?' 

'We are luminous. Beyond "one" or "two." I never knew how to count up to you. In their calculations, we count as two. Really, two? Doesn't that make you laugh? A strange kind of two, which isn't one, especially not one.'  

Luce Irigaray, 'When our lips speak together'