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Like a less evil Michael Krebber, the lightness of Kovanda's touch, if you believe in it, can feel like cool breeze against all the hot air generally steaming up the place. Like all those performances and documentation of those performances, this too is documentation of a placement. Which providing the romantic fantasy that this is all the touch one needs to move, to survive, you get to imagine this as your labor. The weight of the floss embodying the low level weight that you too could begin to carry if you removed burden. Kovanda's slow traces poke fun at us over how heavy our own trudging is.
