one without a title #exwr14

ˇööpäevane lasteaiarühm riia tänaval tartus, kasvatajateks olid 50ndatel ainult medöeharidusega naised

I was left in the kindergarten when I was two

And never picked up again

I am still there

Sitting in the sterile soviet monstrum house

With the other brainwashed people

Waiting for someone to pick me up

Where are you my beloved ones?

Sometimes I get tired and frustrated

I scream in pain and longing

I am a troubled child

Demanding my right to breathe fresh air in the spring morning

Just some small molecules of freedom

Entering my lungs

Is that too much to ask

Is tha

t

please, allow me to leave this space

10-12-2014 Nyköping station kl 20:14

_breasts #exwr14

Under water pressure. I am about to give up. Breathing. It is too much heaviness.

On my breasts.

Breasts.

Breasts.

Breathe! Hinga! Andas! echoing in my head. All the different languages just keep entering my mind as if there still is a space for intellectual discussions about linguistics, as if there is a way I could argue myself out of this “discomforting encounter”. Should I pretend that everything is normal? Should I play along as if it was no water flowing in through all the doors and windows of the university building?

I grab my recent book “Intersectonality and feminist utopias” as if paper or my academic credentials could save me from disappearing into the nothingness. Everyone in the room is getting nervous; I know this feeling in the air. Lot of experience in research circles, one might say…

The internationally well-known professor grabs her chair, junior staff members and post-docs are silently weeping in fear. They have no chance. For a short second or two the room is frozen into the hierarchies. And then it breaks into fragmented panicking masses, everyone is fighting for their lives. All suddenly “equal”… or not exactly…

I decide to die after have seen it happen. Violence made visible.

Troubled structures.

Bodies in pain.

What a beautiful ending to a short story, I´ll take a brake now.

Have been wondering around for some minutes and just discovered as if the air is somehow disappearing. Cannot. Breathe. Anymore.

҂

(8-12-2014 Linköping)

STRANGE FRUIT manifesto #exwr14

Mina Tartus 2013 sügis

STRANGE FRUIT

where are you?

encounter haunted by the dead

living bodies, stories and the beautiful
harmonies across the night air cut off.

Every point I would want to resist work

predictable

BE A BOOK

each chapter    outside myself, each chapter   experience trigger

finding one´s self face-to-face put on display.

I thought if I was, I becoming overly predictable?

A MANIFESTO FOR MYSELF

I write     deeper strings   in the labyrinth
becoming memories,    really

I write     living world   flourishing
be call ed into the depths

ENERGETIC      familiar             DIFFERENT

PEOPLE

10-12-2014 mellan Linköping and Järna

THE PINK I #exwr14

What if I open it?

The small and full of personal secrets.

Inviting, intriguing, impossible, imaginary, inspiring,

THE PINK

Would I laugh at your

intimacy being

exposed to the

light?

or cry?               or go mad?

INTENSE IS THE AIR
IN THE ROOM

Allowing myself not knowing

҂

Living with brown bears

There was a huge song festival last week-end in Tallinn and I was singing together with 20 thousand singers. This is a special feeling to make music together with so many people. Estonian song festival is not about just singing, it is about making music together. These are the words of Raul Talmar, he is one of the main leaders of the festival. And indeed, we had about one hundred thousand people listening (that is 1/10 of Estonian population!).

Estonia is such a small country. There is one million of us speaking Estonian. Sometimes I say it is like a secret language when I write in Estonian, only few can understand me. So extraordinary!

I am living at Altja Toomarahva farm. This is my home, even though I have another home at East-coast of Sweden. Toomarahva farm is located at the North coast of Estonia, about 90 km from Tallinn, the capital. We have big forests here with many wild animals, including brown bears. There is lot of culture and history everywhere you look. The village is ancient. It is so old that none knows when exactly it was established. Our farm was one of the first one ever built here. People were always building boats, fishing, hunting and farming here. I love my home because it is just so very beautiful here and full of traditions!

Altja is a popular tourist attraction, ever since the borders re-opened after the collaps of USSR. There are many tourists visiting our small fishing village in the middle of the wild forests. We renovated some of the farm houses and opened a tourist farm twenty years ago. My mother Ülle Tamm is running this business now together with my sister Merilin Tamm. The visitors come from all over the world.

During my stay, I am always filming a lot. They say that picture is worth a hundred words. What about a video?