Fragments & Artefacts #8
Notes from Bergün, the onset of spring, Alphabetical Diaries by Sheila Heti, etc.
Notes from Bergün/Bravuogn
We rented an old house in the mountains for the last week of winter. Sunday night, we sit at the battered kitchen table. A fire is burning in the small oven, and a batch of tomato sauce is slowly cooking in a heavy pot on the stove. I nibble on some olives as we share a glass of wine. We have our heads in our books. In between pages: calm sighs of relaxation.
***
As I stumble into the bathroom across the creaky floorboard and wonky doorsteps in the morning, I am greeted by a thick layer of snow on the skylight. Outside our bedroom window, large flakes tumble from the sky. The village on the hill is hardly visible; the mountain peaks have vanished in the clouds. I open the window, return to bed, and hide under the soft white sheets. Outside, I hear a group of excited kids pass by and, later, the beeping of the snow plough. I stay in bed for a while longer before I venture downstairs to make coffee.
***
I have the whole compartment to myself as the train makes its way up the mountain through snowed-in landscapes. The window is wide open, the skies are blue, and the sun is warm on my face. At Hospizio Bernina, I embark with a few others to wait for the next train back to Pontresina. The tracks and the platform are the only places freed from the snow. Some of us buy beers or snacks at the station restaurant, but most stand, wait, look. It’s so calm here; the only sound you hear is the snow melting and – in regular intervals – a bell and a loudspeaker announcing the next arrival of another train.
***
Shortly before we leave Bergün on a warm and sunny day, I believe I see two swallows flying circles around the colourful tower in the centre of the village.
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Back in Zurich, the Magnolias have started to bloom. The cat seems happy we are back, and I find that I have missed his cute little mannerisms — the way he greets us when he comes home at night, how he asks me for snacks or to be let outside.
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As I walk down the street, I hear someone playing an 80s tune on a saxophone. The music gets louder as I pass a car. Someone has left their radio running, I think. But from the corner of my eye, I see them sitting in the backseat playing a saxophone.
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The Spring Equinox feels much more like a new beginning than New Year’s. It is the perfect time to make plans, start a journal, and break out of the warm cocoon of cashmere and wool I built around me during winter.
Artefacts
Sheila Heti sorted sentences from a decade's worth of her journals alphabetically and edited them into a book she called “Alphabetical Diaries.” While the premise might sound bothersome at first, I quickly got into the rhythm of it. Sometimes, I just got lost in her words. Other times, I pieced together the common threads of her experiences and the other characters in the book. I often got lost in my own memories, too.
While reading, I regretted (again) that I never stuck to journalling throughout my life. I always felt my experiences too mundane or embarrassing and my thoughts too ridiculous for even my future self to be interested.
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Other books I read:
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Together with a friend, I went to the opening of Luigi Ghirri “Nothing Old Under The Sun” at Mai36, an art gallery here in Zurich. The photographic prints of everyday scenes are tiny compared to the big empty rooms they are displayed in. They almost felt a little bit lost.
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New Music:
On ktinka.ch
I curated a short city guide to Venice and published my portfolio with a selection of photographs from the past years. Feel free to spread the word that I am open to travel, interior, and documentary photography commissions in Zurich and beyond.
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