September 25, 2017
Yesterday, on the terrace of the Kungsbacka Golf Course, while Jeroen was playing his favourite game, my pen daydream turns back to 3 days of Ishoj. Along stretched beach walks accompanied by erratic, black rain showers in composition with bright sunrays. Along the amazing zen day in Copenhagen. And, as a cherry on the cake, the Arken museum.
I feel happy and full of expectation with high, radiant white walls filled with a hodgepodge of art. No lines or directions to be discovered. The thinkers indicate that they deliberately let go of the obvious theme layout. To pose the question to me, as a viewer: does dividing in boxes give you a deeper understanding of what art is about? In less than a millisecond, my mind replaces ‘art’ with ‘life’.
Last February, I gave myself the time to keep fluttering through life until the end of this year. Without wanting to manage, control, or place myself in any box whatsoever. In the trust that whatever paths I choose will ultimately come together at the same crossroads. Without there being an ‘I’ that determines a direction or makes plans. Letting go of many of the ideas about what life is supposed to be like. Asking the questions: What is life truly about? And is it possible to continue to live this freely?
Letting go can be a frustrating laugh. When I walk, run, write, take a photo, or lay on the yoga mat, my mind immediately plans a future with that. Only to then, programmed based on fixed turns, become confused by it. All of those ugly guilt voices that regularly stand at the side of the road screaming: ‘spoiled brat, do something useful with your life’, are something I’d rather not speak of right now.
As free birds, we flew along the Swedish west coast to the architectural, artistic city of Oslo during the final days. From the corners of my eyes, I saw countless, pointless attempts by the controlling planner to send the day in a certain direction. A complete waste of energy. I hope she realises that soon.
The visit to Arken gives me the idea to make collages of all my photographic indulgences of that week. Fluttering. Without direction, ideas, or plans.