ISSN : 2266-6060

Blank

We have often insisted on the traces that writing can produce. Its ability to dislocate situations, to transport them from one place to another, from one moment to another. In our times of all-powerful forms, these written traces are crucial. They are calibrated in series of small boxes where each mark count. They are an extraordinary means of action: one of the several sites where collectives and individuals are simultaneously produced.
Are filled boxes the only important ones in such a process? It is not that simple. Blank ones are also essential. Not to check a box in a form is also an action. But if empty boxes and white pages have to count, how can we be sure they are really ‘blank’? How can we be sure they have not been forgotten? Which would mean their blankness would not be exactly the same… In this manual for the new TV set I settled at my mother-in-law’s house a few weeks ago, I found a strange solution to these questions. Maybe the only one that really prove the intentionality of leaving the page unfilled: fill it.