"To practice space is thus to repeat the joyful and silent experience of childhood; it is, in a place, to be other and to move toward the other…" Michel de Certeau
Life lines, road lines, scar lines, skin lines, poetry lines, the world is lines and connection through meaning, form, shape , colour or imagination.
For Inuits, as soon as a person starts to move He/she becomes a line.
A few days ago I embarked on a 700 km bike ride over a 13 day period. I picked a random point A to reach point B. It turned out to be point C for Copenhagen to point B for Bengtsfors. Bengtsfors who happens to be the place that god forgot in Sweden.
Cutting tracks - tracing lines.
I wanted to tame and feel the landscape in a place I have never been before, learn its silent vocabulary.
There was a bliss in not knowing, not researching more than looking at a road map. How many times do we give up before we even start? Not knowing can be empowerment ( with the right amount of skill to handle the unexpected and collateral).
I found myself in a deep dialogue with Sweden, it spoke to me in its own vocabulary that I slowly learnt to speak in this very shorts space of time and exhausting ride for I had a set time to reach destination .
Cold I was told, windier, hillier and brighter than I so little thought.
Pastel and blue hues
I had no clues, how long you will bee there before the sun was due.
Dawn and dusk linger lazy
Even grey is blue.
I felt your ice cold water
I didn’t know I’ll like it
I came back for more.
I liked the cold like I never thought I could.
I pushed downhill and cycled forever uphill
I became something I didn’t know I could be.
The bliss of not knowing becomes power,
In the Surrender to the present moment
The only option is being - doing - committing while nobody is watching, precisely because no body is watching