TEXT | NARRATION

Man dreams with his whole being his entire life. Having come into the world, he invades the harmony of silence and then wages a war against speechlessness in a face-off with the mother tongue, and his desire to understand another – leads him to square off against new worlds, something he’s yet to understand.

Language as perfect playground of desires. Abandoning your best known playground is similar to abandoning the most faithful picture of yourself. Maybe we are just witnessing the change? (I’ve trailed off into a different story.)

There is something almost sacred about this space between the waters and the sky, and all the images in it – become miniatures of the reality, blending perfectly in the mosaic of timeless emotion. When you are about to leave a place, you always remember one picture as the last and leave a place in your memory for the new one. This is how the order is created, even though it is always disorganized in our heads. Leaving the known, we are entering the unknown. My choice to move to Berlin was blended between those two pictures, last one in blue and new one in black.

Following the refinement of black night, I remember my new picture in black. Black, but with lots of lights. I like to think how the Berlin lights lowered this black color and returned me to in blue again. (Blue was the dominant color from my latest memory.)

In the theory of art, a little white would make a gray one instead of black, but I decided to keep this memory as a blue one. You see how I am playing with my memories? I’m trying to connect the incompatibles. Even I know that they are incomparably and awesomely different in every way, for me those two pictures create one meaningful memory… and, just for a moment, I felt like I’m witnessing places that I’m not even sure they ever existed or I have created it just now. Remembering this in blue, all blue(s).

Will we be able to dream in our language ever again?  Surely, I know how to swim, I know how to swim….

©Tina Bikic