Je knipoogde maar gaf geen antwoord
Ik staarde naar buiten uit het raam van dat kantoor. En grijze wolken dreven niet voorbij. Nee, ze bleven hangen. Vet en dwingend en ze grijnzen naar me. Terwijl jij, Curaçao, naar me knipoogde en je schouders ophaalde. Ik keek naar je met vragende ogen.
Maar je gaf geen antwoord.
Island
Sometimes I hate you. But I love you. I hate you, but I love you.
Island. How I love you and can resent you fiercely at the same time.
When you’re stubborn, kick up a storm and spit in my face. As if you wished I’d never come back.
This is a powerless struggle against invisible roots. Often they seemed to have disappeared.
Leaving me without ground. When they reappear, they make sure I know they’re back.
Reminding me of what I already knew.
A history of the restless ones before me. Ancestors with fearless hearts.
Crossing the ocean, in search of riches, happiness or who knows what.
Maybe even freedom, escaping whatever it was they were leaving behind.
They always travel with me. No matter where I go.
Nobody told them though. But I know, about the urge for more and the endless quest.
Searching until you find what you didn’t know you were looking for.
Resurface
It was like slowly disappearing, feeling the fine grains of a sandcastle, until she was completely submerged. Staring at the birds allowed her to go whenever she wanted. The sky was her sea. Countless minutes by the windows. But once the tide started moving in. All control was lost. And instead of riding the wave. She was pushed under. Resurfacing was impossible, holding her breath until her lungs started to burn. When she finally resurfaced, all was restored.
And all I ever wanted, was to be close to you.
Christy Beaujon
August 2020
Written as part of the body of work for the Unlocked Exhibition in Landhuis Bloemhof Summer 2020
Ik staarde naar buiten uit het raam van dat kantoor. En grijze wolken dreven niet voorbij. Nee, ze bleven hangen. Vet en dwingend en ze grijnzen naar me. Terwijl jij, Curaçao, naar me knipoogde en je schouders ophaalde. Ik keek naar je met vragende ogen.
Maar je gaf geen antwoord.
Island
Sometimes I hate you. But I love you. I hate you, but I love you.
Island. How I love you and can resent you fiercely at the same time.
When you’re stubborn, kick up a storm and spit in my face. As if you wished I’d never come back.
This is a powerless struggle against invisible roots. Often they seemed to have disappeared.
Leaving me without ground. When they reappear, they make sure I know they’re back.
Reminding me of what I already knew.
A history of the restless ones before me. Ancestors with fearless hearts.
Crossing the ocean, in search of riches, happiness or who knows what.
Maybe even freedom, escaping whatever it was they were leaving behind.
They always travel with me. No matter where I go.
Nobody told them though. But I know, about the urge for more and the endless quest.
Searching until you find what you didn’t know you were looking for.
Resurface
It was like slowly disappearing, feeling the fine grains of a sandcastle, until she was completely submerged. Staring at the birds allowed her to go whenever she wanted. The sky was her sea. Countless minutes by the windows. But once the tide started moving in. All control was lost. And instead of riding the wave. She was pushed under. Resurfacing was impossible, holding her breath until her lungs started to burn. When she finally resurfaced, all was restored.
And all I ever wanted, was to be close to you.
Christy Beaujon
August 2020
Written as part of the body of work for the Unlocked Exhibition in Landhuis Bloemhof Summer 2020