Sometimes when I look at your photo, I see in it myself, reaching out towards the sun.
… Can you hear the sound of raining?…
I want to hide under your leaves. I just want to run away, so that no one would see me. I want you to become my shelter. I want you to hide me from the surroundings, to disappear in them so that … no one could see me anymore. I want you to be my salvation.
As the exhibition approaches, I think more and more of the way you will look in it. Of course, I’m thinking about the technicalities: how to hang you, how to give you proper care so that you get enough light. But I also think about the big picture. What will the whole room look like? Will I succeed in conveying all your greatness? Will I manage to show everyone what you really are?
Our second meeting happened when I came for you. You were already standing at another spot. You looked a little different than at our first meeting. But… I measured your thickness. It seemed to me you had already grown up a lot. At least in my imagination.
I feel that I could not even lift your base, even if I was willing to. Your leaves … only now have I noticed what your leaves are, all the details, the whole surroundings. Now you were standing where for you, probably, it was …
There were already more flowers in your surroundings. And you were no longer so sad. You would probably talk to them.
In the new place where you are now, you can look out the window. The street, where people run every day: each day, they pass by, either on foot or by cars. I hope this makes you happier.
On my way home, sometimes I would meet a fox. She would cross my path. Often even twice. It’s just that there is a roundabout where you it crosses one street, you turn around, and it runs again – across another street.
I don’t know why, but when it stopped running there, I began to miss it. I haven’t seen it in a good month. Previously, I met it every other day. And … I was just imagining how you would look together. I would love to see you together. No longer in my imagination.
The first meeting between the two of us took place during a party. Immediately I noticed you. You were already big. And since then, you have become something to me that unites all that greatness: the plants and… everything else. To me, you resemble an animal.
Yesterday, I watched the sunset on a hill near my home. I didn’t want you to be around.
But you came. It was at that crucial moment that you obscured the picture for me. I sighed. You also brought some friends. I didn’t want to get involved in a conflict, so I kept silent. And, again, I stroked you between your ears.
When you nestled up against me, I felt that you and I were best enemies, but worst friends. You come when I don’t want to see you, but when invited, you usually don’t show up.
As the sun set, only your friends and shadow remained. I didn’t know them yet. I touched my ears, and there was your fur.
I couldn’t fall asleep, and then you came in a yet unknown form. The night lamp light only illuminated part of your body. At first, I thought it wasn’t you.
You dropped a few scales, but that didn’t help me fall asleep. Then you put horns in my hands, they were a little bloody. I realized I had to wash them. There was no light in the bathroom. Things looked dramatic in the dark. I wanted some more of your stripes on my body so that nobody would notice that I was here.
I was cleaning the computer keyboard after a bloody clash with you. You had been lying next to the closet for some time in silence. I could feel that you wanted to say something.
I could see the scratches from your nails on my hands. I licked the blood away. And once again.
I felt uplifted. Exhausted, but at the same time, exalted.
Somewhere near the piano, there were remnants of hair. I wanted those hair, but you growled and bared your teeth. I started laughing.
As tears began to fall, you turned away. By the time I opened my eyes, you were already wrapped around my wrist. You dropped my watch, and it crashed into a thousand small details. I leaned over to collect the pieces. Instead of my hands, I already had your feathered wings.
I looked out the window. I noticed that I was starting to see what was happening many kilometers away. I saw a mountain up close, which until now looked like a mist. The wings were gone, but that kind of vision remained until the next day.
I almost came late to the meeting, because I could not summon you to go along.
When I finally felt being myself, you reappeared again. Oh, I won’t fight it, that’s enough – I thought to myself and pretended I couldn’t see you. You became a movie just going side by side. Like a sort of TV set that I have to get used to.
I was among my relatives. I was laughing. I saw, as you were nearby, that you felt the same way. For the first time we were like a team and wanted the same thing.
Walking the hallways of this building every day, I feel small again. I would like to know where you are at the moment – so that I would not go there.
When they turned off the lighting again, I went back to the days when you were standing on the windowsill behind the curtains. You had a shape of a forest predator. I could feel you, but I didn’t see you.
Why weren’t you on my skin when I needed you so much? Why did you let me feel that way? I still can’t forgive you for those feelings you caused me.
“…I close my eyes. I open them inside your skin. I don’t understand if it’s still me or already you. Why are you on my surface? I see your patterns everywhere. Clothes, things, TV shows, shops. I have not yet understood the origin of this need. Why are you so attractive to me? Why is your color so attractive to me?
I feel your breath between my inspirations. We become one. We go out into the street. I turn to see if you are still on my surface. I see you around the corner at the showcase. Bright lights illuminate the dummy below you. Then you disappear.
There are silver mirrors around. I don’t see, but rather feel my image. I leave the room.
The curtains hide the outside. We become us again. Back together. Once again my foot is your tail. Your predatory teeth are in my mouth. Again I have to fight your enemies. I press your paw. You step outside the curtains. Third floor.
Now we only meet up on Sunday. You look tired. I cook some soup. You don’t eat. The scales protect the bitemarks, I know this, so I ask you to cover my body with your body a bit. Today I need your protection. I put on a sweater, and walk out into the hallway. The door doesn’t open…”
Photo by Andrej Vasilenko