Licking Lichens

2023
Performative Practice

lichène: s. m. [dal lat. lichen -enis, gr. λειχήν -ῆνος, der. di λείχω «leccare, lambire»] (tr.)

lichen: noun [from lat. lichen -enis, gr. λειχήν -ῆνος, der. from λείχω «to lick, to lamb»]

In the animal world, the act of licking has plenty of connotations. The tongue could be seen as a probe, ﬁlled with thousands of sensory cells, used to investigate and understand the surroundings. Licking wounds is seen as a (self-)soothing gesture, to remove debris, dirt or any kind of fragments and clean the injury. It could also be understood as a communication method, in order to make visible a state of anxiety, nervousness or distress, to comfort the other, to show love.
In the human sphere, speciﬁcally, licking is related to food intake, as a way to taste a new dish, a product or a ﬂavour or to consume a speciﬁc food made especially for being licked (for example ice creams or lollipops). It can be related to the oral stage of infants, where the interaction and discovery of the world comes through their mouth. Another aspect to address is the sexual one: we lick to stimulate the partner, and we engage our tongues as an erotic tool to wander on each other's body and in oral sex.

However, in this specific case, it serves as a means of wandering, discovering, interacting, and understanding. To be able to engage with the lichen, I must lower myself, get on all fours, and crawl – a behavior that is not usual for a human being.
I’m proposing this project as a practice, as an exercise to unlearn our human behaviours.
How does it feel to lower on all four? To engage with our surroundings in uncommon ways?

Lichens, in their apparent sensitivity and sensibility, seem to surpass humans in these qualities. Lichens are a complex ymbiotic merger between two or more partners, and are known for their ability to survive in exceedingly low levels of water content. They are also bio-indicator species, meaning they are sensitive to climate change and pollution. What can we learn from them?

Writing exercise: A letter to Lichen

I’ve found it hard to get to know you, Lichen.
It was hard to get to know you, I felt a sort of barrier keeping us apart.Was it my fault? Was I creating misconceptions?
Eventually, I tried another way: I took the path of etymology. I’ve heard that the origin of the world that we use to describe you means “to lick'' or “to lamb”.

Do you like the name we gave you?
Lichen, is it okay if I touch you like that? Am I allowed to? It is a strange sensation for me.
Your surface is coarse, your texture triggers me.Maybe, if you’ll let me, I could use my saliva to enjoy you becoming colourful again, to please myself with your unfurling.

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