I met Carola at Slussen in front of the flower stand in the rain at 3pm Friday. She recognized me by the white cap and walked up to me with an inviting smile on a calm, relaxed face surrounded by a curly hairdo. Later on she told me that she had had her hair done recently and was still getting used to it. The curls are natural though. It's not exactly an Afro but it surrounds her soft and angelic face like an aura made of black curls with one tuft on the left side next to her face dyed blond. She didn't bring any rain clothes cause she can't stand them, but didn't mind walking through the rain. She made a very self-assured, almost stoic first impression on me. Maybe stoic isn't the right word. More resting in herself, at home in her body and at ease, unaffected by the bad weather it seemed. I imagined she could be a therapist or a tour guide maybe . . . used to approaching strangers in an accommodating way. I had my windbreaker and it wasn't pouring cats and dogs. So we walked over to Gamla Stan, the old historic city center. I realize how important first impressions are. They occupy my memory and stay there. It's not easy to get rid of them. She told me that she used to live close to Fittja where I'm staying. That's where she grew up in fact. So for some reason I immediately placed her in the immigration slash ethnic box - also because of her skin color. Not typically Swedish at all. I would have guessed some Italian or Israeli roots or maybe even Egyptian or Turkish. And then I kept being amazed how intelligent and eloquent she was, how well she chose her words and how versatile with her vocabulary - but not in a 'I want to impress' kind of way. I found myself on an intimate walk with a very well-educated and charming young woman. I found out that she had just finished composing school. And before had studied sound engineering. She had also been involved in theater projects. She asked me about the relation of my artistic work with therapy, because apparently something was mentioned on the facebook page where Kristina had advertised the intimate walks. So I told her how it all had started with 'White Horse - an attempt at live therapy' which was more meant as an ironic twist on therapy in the theater . . . and how from then on the therapeutic approach stuck to me almost like a label or signature or light in the dark or red line to follow. She explained to me how in her composition pieces she also works with her own shit (as she put it) a lot. And then she said something about how tiring this can get. At the beginning of the year she was diagnosed with ADHD just like her sister had been. It's really becoming a hype this diagnosis. I was curious how this diagnosis had affected her and her artistic work. She went on talking about a composition piece that she made based on the crystal memory as opposed to the work memory. (These are terms literally translated from Swedish) One being more like the short-term memory and the other more long-term if I understood correctly. She described in much more eloquent words than I'm using now how some melodies and sounds would have these short echoes and reverberations. If I'm not mistaken this is how Carola transformed the ADHD diagnosis into her artistic work. But maybe I'm wrong and should get diagnosed with ADHD as well, because when it gets to the nitty-gritty stuff of some artistic concept I often lose track and get a bit lost. We arrived in a courtyard of a Finnish church. There were some flower beds and a war memorial (of either the Finnish or the Second World War). Carola said that she comes here often with her friends because it's so quiet and nobody ever comes here. They would sit there for hours talking and drinking coffee. At night time it's especially intimate and peaceful she said. We couldn't sit down because it was all wet from the rain. Instead we walked onwards to a square where Carola showed me a famous cannon ball that had been fired into the corner of a building during some civil unrest in the Middle Ages. She explained the whole story as we were standing on that square pointing right at the cannon ball and for about 5 minutes I simply couldn't see the cannon ball because I thought it was in the wall or a shop window right around the corner. There was a huge sign at the corner of the building and for a while I started looking for the cannon ball inside of that sign. And I already felt stupid for maybe not knowing what a cannon ball actually looks like and if I knew I'd for sure be able to detect it. But in the end I spotted it right above the sign, dug into the wall right on the corner of that building as Rebecca had explained all along. I really should get tested for ADHD. . .
Carola proposed to seek shelter and go for a coffee in a gay cafe where they supposedly had some of the best coffees and hot chocolates in town and a lot of chocolate pastries and the famous cinnamon buns! It was a very old establishment from the 16hundreds. We ordered two hot chocolates and a cinnamon bun to share. For the sake of intimacy and gezelligheid I decided to betray my Vegan principles and savor this as a special treat. Inside the cafe we started talking about relationships. We realized that we both never had a lasting relationship for the whole span of our adult lives. This lack in our lives made for an intimate connection. There we were - two adult strangers afraid of intimacy, afraid of commitment - sharing our fears and hopes over a hot chocolate and a cinnamon bun . . . listening and probing, asking questions and encouraging each other. Carola told me how her father recently called her one morning when she was still a bit hung over because she had picked up this macho guy in a bar the night before. And she ended up telling her father on the phone and wondering out loud why she kept doing this - going home with these straight, strong guys who remind her of her father and who she simply couldn't stay with for longer than a few days or a week. And her father replied in a very matter-of-fact tone of voice: 'No you shouldn't go out with these macho guys. They are not your type' as if it was the most obvious bit of information in the world. This is the kind of intimate stuff Carola shared with me and more . . . for example that she is falling in love with and possibly starting a relationship with a woman on Öland, but that she is scared shitless and that she might need some more time. And that this woman doesn't let her touch her unless she is ready to commit to something serious. Carola finds this respectful and fair. And I, in return, of course had to tell her about my love affair in Uruguay. . . put on hold and waiting to turn into a relationship . . . or not . . . and that I'm afraid to project things into this relationship because I want to keep myself from being disappointed when I see Gonzalo again at the end of September. And that we never even skyped in two years of not seeing each other but only kept in touch via email.
There was a real need and care in sharing and talking. It was one of the most talkative intimate walks I've ever done - maybe due to the fact that we sat in that cafe for more than half of the time spent together. But if felt like a real connection and I'd be very curious to know the sequel to the love story on Öland. We also talked about the problematic relationships with our fathers and mothers which are always intimate by their very nature. And for a long time we talked about auras - Carola is able to read auras. She learned it from a classmate in school. She doesn't do it so much anymore. But she used to be able to see people's energies without even making a special effort and this created a very colorful world for her . . . which in turn made it difficult for her to focus sometimes. So now she always asks for permission first. Because auras are private.
Immediately after the walk Carola sent me this message:
i hope this is not out of "concept" but i wanted to say this meeting touched me in a sense.
under the form of intimate i felt i pushed my boundries and in that also saw something new in me.
when i dare to open up and show myself, i am also able to meet someone else and see them. There's a kind of love in that. Platonic and universal but still. Thank you!
After I sent her the text to double-check she replied:
It's a cute story, and it made me smile. And I also feel flattered by your description, thank you. Though very intimate, it's kind of the nature of the game and your private depiction.
I reacted to two things, wanted to sleep on it though.
At first I thought the macho story was alright, that kind of information doesn't really bother me. but there was something about it. a kind of tone that makes me feel vulnerable, left on a limb. A feeling I didn't have while sharing. I think it lies in the sentence "This is the kind of intimate stuff Carola shared with me and more . . ."
My own reflection on you text though. And I say this as in a continuous talk on what intimacy really is. You seem surprised on the type of information I am sharing. I think people find different things private, and in that sense I might be very open as I am used to be with my friends. I find it more intimate to tell someone exactly what i am feeling than to tell the story of a one night stand. in that perhaps private and intimate are totally different things. I keep thinking of what your friend the monastery owner said on intimacy, that it's being yourself to the fullest in a group of people. For me that is a kind of trust. Knowing that you won't be abandoned or despised for who you are. I am being very straight forward again, but that is the controversy for me. In the meeting i felt trust, in the text i also feel a distance. Like I didn't meet you but instead was investigated by a zoologist. Although you do express a connection as well. There are a lot of grey scales and shades in the world. These I reacted strongly to.
And this I wrote in response:
Thanks for your sincere feedback. When looking at the text again, I realize that it is written with quite some distance. Could this be due to the fact that I didn't write much about my feelings and subjective reactions to the 'zoological subject' I was investigating? It's strange that it turned out that way. Because I think I usually put more of that subjective analytical stuff in. Maybe I tried to be more succinct and leave more space for ambiguity or asking the reader to read in between the lines. Although I'm not really sure what I would want them to read there. . . But you're right that I maybe hit a certain detachment and coolness in my tone. I can see it clearly in the text now that you pointed your finger at it. Maybe I'm a bit tired of observing and analyzing my own meandering thoughts and self-conscious behavior in an exchange with a stranger. Possibly I'm not thinking so much in this very period of my life. You write about grey shades and scales. Do you feel I neglected them in the report? I think the very essence of this project lies in a grey zone.
Immediately after the walk Carola sent me this message:
i hope this is not out of "concept" but i wanted to say this meeting touched me in a sense.
under the form of intimate i felt i pushed my boundries and in that also saw something new in me.
when i dare to open up and show myself, i am also able to meet someone else and see them. There's a kind of love in that. Platonic and universal but still. Thank you!
After I sent her the text to double-check she replied:
It's a cute story, and it made me smile. And I also feel flattered by your description, thank you. Though very intimate, it's kind of the nature of the game and your private depiction.
I reacted to two things, wanted to sleep on it though.
At first I thought the macho story was alright, that kind of information doesn't really bother me. but there was something about it. a kind of tone that makes me feel vulnerable, left on a limb. A feeling I didn't have while sharing. I think it lies in the sentence "This is the kind of intimate stuff Carola shared with me and more . . ."
My own reflection on you text though. And I say this as in a continuous talk on what intimacy really is. You seem surprised on the type of information I am sharing. I think people find different things private, and in that sense I might be very open as I am used to be with my friends. I find it more intimate to tell someone exactly what i am feeling than to tell the story of a one night stand. in that perhaps private and intimate are totally different things. I keep thinking of what your friend the monastery owner said on intimacy, that it's being yourself to the fullest in a group of people. For me that is a kind of trust. Knowing that you won't be abandoned or despised for who you are. I am being very straight forward again, but that is the controversy for me. In the meeting i felt trust, in the text i also feel a distance. Like I didn't meet you but instead was investigated by a zoologist. Although you do express a connection as well. There are a lot of grey scales and shades in the world. These I reacted strongly to.
And this I wrote in response:
Thanks for your sincere feedback. When looking at the text again, I realize that it is written with quite some distance. Could this be due to the fact that I didn't write much about my feelings and subjective reactions to the 'zoological subject' I was investigating? It's strange that it turned out that way. Because I think I usually put more of that subjective analytical stuff in. Maybe I tried to be more succinct and leave more space for ambiguity or asking the reader to read in between the lines. Although I'm not really sure what I would want them to read there. . . But you're right that I maybe hit a certain detachment and coolness in my tone. I can see it clearly in the text now that you pointed your finger at it. Maybe I'm a bit tired of observing and analyzing my own meandering thoughts and self-conscious behavior in an exchange with a stranger. Possibly I'm not thinking so much in this very period of my life. You write about grey shades and scales. Do you feel I neglected them in the report? I think the very essence of this project lies in a grey zone.
Do you feel betrayed in your trust after reading the text? Do you question my sincerity?
I realize that I can never give the complete picture of such an encounter. Our encounter was so rich. How to honor that, how to pay tribute to that? What I wrote may be a simplification and makes the meeting sound more trivial than it was . . . I guess I also thought of a general public when writing the email, trying to quickly deliver a readable and entertaining text which isn't all too ambiguous and difficult to read. I guess my style (in writing) and in interactions is a certain naivete which is appealing to some and boring to others. Maybe I should be less concerned with what people expect of me. Am I trying to defend myself? To explain myself? I feel concerned. Don't want to leave you out on that limb. I would love to meet you again and have another long talk over a tea or coffee. . . to figure out what misunderstandings I (we) created. . . to take it a bit further. It's very easy to open up without having to worry about consequences. Maybe I want life to be too simple.
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