Dear Savas,

Today I took a long walk with one of the other guest artists. I like the combination of walking and talking. Moving around, in this case in an urban landscape evokes other kind of subjects and thoughts that could never appear if sitting down, indoors. I guess it also stimulates the blood circulation and your body and mind in general. I'm quite jealous of this artist. She can see things that I can't see. She can hear things that I can't hear. And she can feel things that I can't feel. Or maybe that's not the right way of describing it, I do feel, hear and see those things but not consciously. It's just that I'm so used to them so I don't pay them any attention. You see, she's from Los Angeles and describes the climate there to be constant. Constant light and constant good warm weather. So here, in a country in the north, with a climate new to her, and known to me, she can hear the sound of winter tires on asphalt. She can spend days documenting the movement of the light in her studio. She can for the first time understand what it is like walking on ice and having to learn how to do it. She can see how her warm breath forms a white cloud. She can stop and just breathe for a while and be amazed by that cloud and the fact that a part of her own body extends out into the cold air. I remember doing that as a child; forming a circle with my lips and pushing air through that circle just to see the white cloud. The trick is to form your lips so that you blow in an angle upwards, it's easier to see the cloud then. But I hardly do it anymore, I don't even remember when I stopped.

Through others we can experience our surroundings in new (or in this case, old) ways. I love that. Borrowing someone else's eyes and senses for a while and discover another world. That's also one of the things I like with having visitors in my home and in my home town. You can then play the role of the tourist and walk around in wonder, visit places you didn't know exist and take some vacation from your everyday life. Here, I feel like I'm somewhere in between home and not. It's a new town, a new environment, and many things to consciously hear, feel, smell and see. But it's also quite familiar. I don't know if it makes sense, but that's how it feels.

It is also the other way around of course, I can experience things that she can't, and while she's occupied with listening to the sound of the winter tires I hear something else. Maybe my jealousy comes from the fact that she now has something that I once had, but lost. A strange sentimentality, I could just as well be jealous at the children in the kindergarten next door. And in a way I guess I am.

I hope you have met many new interesting people in New York to experience and understand the world through. And that all is well with you.

Love,
Johanna