JOURNALS

With Eva, Two weeks

It was the morning of my departure following two weeks stay, the redcurrant, rucola and hibiscus flowers in Eva’s garden had passed their best and autumn was on its way. On that morning too we chatted and drank coffee until the last minute, and I came close to missing the airport train. I struggled to hurry, dragging my trunk behind me, which was even heavier than before, Eva ran ahead and called loudly to the conductor not to shut the doors. I shoved the trunk into the train and went tumbling in afterwards, I wasn't able to stand up immediately and so despite Eva coming to the station to see me off, I couldn’t see her properly from this inelegant position and didn't even have time to wave as the train left the platform.

When I arrived at Oslo airport at the end of July having travelled via London, the airport seemed very quiet. Even though there were not very many passengers entering the country a queue soon developed thanks to the slow and careful pace of the passport control. An Australian man and woman started to chat loudly realising that they were compatriots. A dark-skinned girl who seemed to have come from a far away country to study searched frantically in her bag for her documents. Among these people, I felt surprisingly calm despite the fact I was standing at the threshold of a country which I was visiting for the first time. Although I had a distant memory of meeting Eva many years ago and we had exchanged e-mails a number of times, I had decided not to come with preconceptions and expectations. With only the normal travel preparations, all I could do to get ready was to consciously decide not to prepare myself physically and emotionally for this meeting.

I recognized Eva straight away. We exchanged reserved greetings and got in the car. We drove through the centre of Oslo and after a little while the car turned off the main road and carried on in the shade of some trees, finally stopping near some incredibly tall trees. And so my two-week stay with Eva in her mustard coloured house began. We started our time together by doing everyday things such as going to the local market to buy food and cooking it. Although there was just the two of us, the house, surrounded by enormous trees and a variety of plant life, was very spacious, and we were able to live comfortably together whilst maintaining our own space.

We cooked and ate meals, - breakfast, lunch and dinner - together and chatted endlessly. This formed the basis for our exchange. However, that does not mean that we rambled meaninglessly. I realised quickly that Eva is very dedicated to her work and very active in her thinking. On the other hand she is not too serious, and combines a sense of humour with surprising frankness, and is the most energetic person. Looking back I can see that Eva did not push me into doing things, but it seemed she had thoughtfully made many preparations to guide me. The kitchen was the place for brainstorming and sketching, in the living room and her studio we would do careful research and discuss things. At the end of the day we would retire to our own rooms and consider things carefully alone. If we had any good ideas Eva would rush to her studio to get materials or books. In the morning, as Eva poured coffee for me, she would tell me the things she had thought about the previous evening. Once we had drunk coffee together and finished talking she would go again to her own room in order to get dressed. That time until Eva came back and the day began gave me a chance to think over what she had said; this became our daily routine.

After we had been to visit Galleri F15 where the exhibition is to be held we were able to discuss many things in more detail towards the actualisation of our ideas and think about what we were going to create together. In our spare time at the weekend, we went out picking mushrooms and blueberries in the woods. Eva who is used to walking in the woods got further and further into the distance. The rain began to fall and suddenly the green colours became even more intense. Unsteady as I was on my feet, I stopped to gaze at Eva’s slender figure all in black which formed a beautiful silhouette between the trees. As I hurried after her from behind I suddenly thought - Eva was working so hard on her own in this quiet country covered with evergreen trees, I felt sure she was seeking something. I felt that this beautiful natural environment heals and stimulates humans at the same time as harshly making us confront our true selves in the silence.
Ultimately, artists cannot create works if they shun solitude. That figure was Eva but it was also myself, I realised.

Perhaps there is a reason why as soon as Eva and I met we found it easy to pass the time together.  As we use English, a foreign language for both of us, to communicate together, not being fully bilingual we always have to consciously prepare our thoughts, and so are able to listen carefully and patiently to what the other person is saying. These exchanges formed a foundation of tolerance and enabled us to be accepting of each other's culture and background. In addition, experiencing life in a foreign country is an opportunity to learn acceptance, as you can feel things for yourself that can never be shared on the same level. And it is also said that you are given an opportunity to believe in the possibilities of deep mutual understanding on a personal level.

Eva and I met without realising it in 1991, then by good fortune we were able to spend this two weeks together; the intervening 17 years had been the most important period of our lives. In 1991 I was ending long years as a student, and was just starting out on the road to becoming an artist. For Eva, the 17 years have seen her spend a long time in Japan and also return to Norway to start her life afresh. As we spent our time together, I am sure we had a mutual understanding that because of this good fortune, we had a special time which could never be repeated. At the same time as meeting Eva, I feel that I am meeting a long forgotten part of myself. When we come across new things, we encounter the present and the past of ourselves at the same time. I'm not sure whether Eva was also aware of this, but I believe that she may have had a similar sort of experience.

As the sun begins to set, finally the air in Tokyo also feels as if autumn is on its way. Until late in the evening I can hear the sound of cars passing, and occasionally the sound of a siren or an insect chirping. In this area close to the bustling city, even at mid-night it is never silent. Coming back to my busy life, at the end of the day when I look back on things, I think of the time spent with Eva in the quiet of Norway and it feels intriguing, as if I am looking at a faraway scene, and I feel I am missing something. However an e-mail from Eva reminds me that the project is very much ongoing. As yet I have no idea what kind of pieces will come out of these two weeks. But I know that this challenge itself is extremely meaningful for me.