We started our journey on Saturday at 18:30 from Eneby harbour close to Järna in Sweden. It is Evelin, Indrek and Rein-Martin on board of Lyra’s Star. Almost like a year before, except that R…
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
please, allow me to leave this space
10-12-2014 Nyköping station kl 20:14
Under water pressure. I am about to give up. Breathing. It is too much heaviness.
On my 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.
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.
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
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
10-12-2014 mellan Linköping and Järna
What if I open it?
The small and full of personal secrets.
Inviting, intriguing, impossible, imaginary, inspiring,
Would I laugh at your
exposed to the
or cry? or go mad?
INTENSE IS THE AIR
IN THE ROOM
Allowing myself not knowing
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?