dinsdag 27 augustus 2013

Day 13. Walking with Frank Siddiqui


I had a strange dream. I walked around with two big holes in my legs. You could see right through them. I encountered two men. One of them said: "You look as if you've been crucified." I just walked on.
Another day with the theme longing. I woke up in time to see the sun set over the Siberian Plateau. Since yesterday I have been following the GR 654, the route from Namur to Vezelay, continuing there to Santiago de Compostella. Before I took off, I tried to remove the thorns from my handpalms. Yesterday I slipped and fell in some blackberrie bushes. I suddenly remembered my dream.

Plums and blackberries for breakfast. A walk through the woods. A river. The route told me to make a detour through more woods but I was attracted by the water. I remembered the haiku Frank had sent me. About the boat of his longing making waves along the waterside. I followed the river. La Meuse. A line through the landscape.

Frank had bought a farm in France. He was there at the moment with his partner, Lonnie. They had invited me to come over if my route would lead along their house. In a way it didn't, but in another way it did. It would be a big detour. But after I had read his last message to me, I realised it would make sense to make this detour. This is what he wrote to me:

"Dear Monique and co-pilots in time and space, we have chosen and found a place to stay and work. We have plenty of room and besides: none of it is ours. That's just on paper, as we have always felt it. We act as on the move, with what and who is there, and we enjoy to share as much as possible. Anyone with respect and wonder coming to this place will be our teacher and leave wisdom here. Learning is our work of art and your visit will be another opportunity to meet, share, learn and wonder."

Detours are the best.
In the evening I was at their place. Albert had joined me and drove me there. We sat in the kitchen and talked. About haiku, about Osho, about longing. About the Armenian composer Komitas, "Bartok avant la lettre". About andouni, songs about exile, about the power of music.

We slept well.

Here is a link to their place. A place with room for everybody: http://studioharcigny.nl/wordpress/?page_id=721

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