Ireen’s visits are always inspiring. Even when a year or more slips by in between, each new meeting feels like a natural continuation of the previous one. No ceremonial declarations or obligatory phrases like ‘haven’t seen you in a hundred years.’ At times it even feels as though we’re simply continuing from where we last left off, right in the middle of a sentence.
The last time we met was at HAKI gallery, about three years ago, and I remember being delighted by Ireen’s headstand project. She wanted to master a balance exercise so she could be a fit and lively grandmother for her grandchildren, long before her grandchildren even existed. Since then, ‘standing on one’s head’ has become a kind of private code between Kaili and me whenever we end up talking about our own or someone else’s physical fitness journey.
This time, Ireen—who had fully embraced Hebrew religion and culture and changed her name to Daria—walked into the room with a smile and said, ‘You don’t need to tell me anything about downsizing, I know exactly what you mean.’ She went on to describe her vision of living in a space bared down to the essentials: just one spoon, one cup, one plate, one pair of shoes, and so on. A place where every object has its purpose and its place, and nothing draws attention away from life itself.
We realized we still have a long way to go, since guests will soon start visiting us at MIGA, and we’ll likely end up with more spoons and cups than either of us really needs. There will probably be more pairs of shoes, too. In Daria’s home, one pair is truly enough because of the climate, but that’s not what matters. What matters is the renewed surge of inspiration we feel to keep moving along this path, toward a place where, in the end, one spoon will be enough. And if there are two spoons, it will only be so that they can be used to share a meal together.
This time, Ireen—who had fully embraced Hebrew religion and culture and changed her name to Daria—walked into the room with a smile and said, ‘You don’t need to tell me anything about downsizing, I know exactly what you mean.’ She went on to describe her vision of living in a space bared down to the essentials: just one spoon, one cup, one plate, one pair of shoes, and so on. A place where every object has its purpose and its place, and nothing draws attention away from life itself.
We realized we still have a long way to go, since guests will soon start visiting us at MIGA, and we’ll likely end up with more spoons and cups than either of us really needs. There will probably be more pairs of shoes, too. In Daria’s home, one pair is truly enough because of the climate, but that’s not what matters. What matters is the renewed surge of inspiration we feel to keep moving along this path, toward a place where, in the end, one spoon will be enough. And if there are two spoons, it will only be so that they can be used to share a meal together.
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