Letters from Somewhere No.135
The sky is clear and strewn with stars, and I can even see the Milky Way. The air is warm, and a light, gentle breeze is blowing. It is quiet, and not a soul is to be seen on the streets. I put my…
Letters from Somewhere No.134
Every painted picture holds many other pictures. Most of them are unfinished sketches and drafts. Paths you set out on and then abandoned, only to end up somewhere entirely different from where you…
Letters from Somewhere No.133
I wanted to touch the earth, to smell the grass after I'd cut it. Now that it's green again more than ochre, alive again more than scorched. And still before the rains come. I wanted to be out in the…
Letters from Somewhere No.132
I wonder what will happen to me when I go back. Whenever I traveled to Croatia, to Kutina, the town where I was born, it was always the same. I stayed at my parents' house and visited relatives, or…
Letters from Somewhere No.131
Attention is a choice. What we do with it quietly shapes who we become. On Saturday, shortly after 4 p.m., I notice smoke, as if something were burning somewhere. It's coming from outside, carried in…
Letters from Somewhere No.130
The intense dreams don't stop. The vibration of the watch on my wrist tears me from sleep, and only that ends them. But this time I carry part of the dream with me into waking life. I don't like…
Letters from Somewhere No.129
One last time in Berlin. It can always be a last time, or one of many in between — you never know in advance. But for us, this is the last time we drive to the storage unit we rented four years ago,…
Letters from Somewhere No.128
Summer has finally arrived. It did not creep in, it kicked down the door and was suddenly here, from one day to the next. Scorching heat during the day, followed by humid nights. Yet I cannot enjoy…
Letters from Somewhere No.127
I have a very strong sense of what’s beautiful to me. So here we are, in one place, and it does me a great deal of good. Day by day I feel lighter. A sense of security rises in me. Trust takes shape.…
Letters from Somewhere No.126
It was on a Sunday afternoon in Brittany when we decided to go to a beach we had passed on an earlier hike. It lies enclosed between steep, reddish-brown cliffs that plunge vertically into the sea.…