sleeping through a rough, stormy night
We had a very weird night. I went to bed a little later than usual, which is not a problem in itself. At some point, however, Luka closed the room's window, as it was raining heavily, with strong gusts of wind. Through a sleepy glance, I could see very bright flashes of light, as if someone were turning on the lights of a football field. But I was sleeping, and promptly went back into slumber.
I would wake up a little later, needing to use the bathroom; and when I ventured outside the room into the kitchen, and a little more conscious of what was happening β we would not work in the morning because there would surely be a storm coming β I could, again, see the very strong flashes of light, and hear the rumbling thunder, which I suppose had been present throughout the whole evening.
My morning started at 6AM, one hour later than yesterday β it means I am not adapted to the new working schedule, and should be a little more careful when swaying off it in the forthcoming days. I realised there was no electricity in the house, which is not necessarily a big issue were it not for the fridge; that, and the fact that there are no windows in the bathroom, and one would have to shower in the dark. My phone was also dead, and after charging a little with the powerbank it was evident there was barely any antenna signal.
With everything very wet in the surrounding environment, I hopped on the bike with the yoga mat and went to the sports centre; I did some meditation and yoga. Only later would we hear from NataΕ‘a and Daniele, whose night was much, much worse: their house is above ours, in terms of relative altitude, and they got very strong hail added to the wind: at some point, they feared the house would be crumbling over them. The storm took many leaves out of the trees, and might have ruined crops nearby, too. And the night was rougher for some other volunteers, too: Hanna startled Paula in the middle of night, and went out into the storm to retrieve the nettle seeds we had left out to dry (they had already been taken care of by NataΕ‘a earlier in the day; I would only think about them during today's morning walk); and we forgot to inform poor Paula that we would not start the works at 5:30AM, and so she awoke and got herself prepared anyway.
I don't know much about Slovenia yet, but my impression is that everyone feels the weather has become very unpredictable in the last years. Here we are, mid July, and Summer feels very frail: it rains almost every week. This is not necessarily bad β in Portugal, it is very common to have dry Summers, with all the problems that entails with the water management and droughts; in fact, it was that sort of weather I was in some way trying to escape β but the situation seems to be a little out of control right now.
I am now in Lenart, the closest city to Jurovski Dol; I wanted to do some computer work, and also go out of the farm a little. Later today we will again have Simon Chang over at the farm, and he's bringing some prints of our pictures.
riding back home in less than 20 minutes
The trip back home was very pleasant. It was sunny, and instead of taking the same way back, I went through the side road in which there is an 18% inclination β but the way down is much easier, of course. The more rides I do throughout both these roads, the more I get acquainted with the valley landscape; I find it really comforting to get an overview of the farm from the other side of it, with everything so much smaller, and in order. It's not easy to photograph, because it is so distant. Maybe one day.
It was also very nice to be in the cafΓ©. I managed to do the full order in Slovene: "ena kavo, prosim", even though I am definitely very far from being able to juggle the genitive, locative, instrumental cases and the subsequent transformations in the nouns used; but I can already understand some words if I make an effort in eavesdropping β it's reassuring to feel this is actually going somewhere. On the way back, I listened to Julia Byrne's Not Even Happiness; her new record is out, but I'm reacquainting myself with one that I hold very dear.
meeting Simon again, with a first look onto our pictures
When I got to the farm, Daniele and NataΕ‘a were not around; and I made it just in time for lunch, which was somewhat alarming: had there been a change of plans I was not aware of? But they appeared shortly after: they had mismanaged the time, and realised too late there wouldn't be any time for cooking. So we got some pizza instead. Maybe one day the responsibility of cooking in these emergencies will fall upon me?
The weather was changing quite quickly and by the time we were done with the meal, it was rainy again. This was not a big deal β and it was already somewhat accounted for β because we would, again, see Simon Chang, our photographer friend. We met in our common room, and sat around the big table. A couple of days ago, each of us picked between ten and fifteen photographs, and he brought them printed. Without necessarily revealing who was the photographer from the get-go, we would see the pictures, discuss them, and then talk about some of their stories. I had not yet peeked at the pictures (we had a shared Google Drive folder, so they were accessible), so it was to be surprised by everyone's choices.
It was very interesting and engaging. Simon really made an effort to put the pictures into context and offer many possible interpretations and avenues for thematic cohesion; some were pretty evident, like portrait-themed pictures in which the subjects were insects, but he also found a motif of geometric lines among some seemingly unrelated pictures from another person. Some pictures were quite distant, and, thus, digitally grained due to the artificial zoom of the mobile phones β "go and get closer", he said, making us a little more aware that photography does not necessarily have to do with the final product β the act of taking a picture β but with the overarching story that might develop, and from the serendipity of making connections, talking to people, and letting, somehow, some vulnerability emerge. Simon's a very engaging speaker, and everyone's got new propositions and challenges from this afternoon session; a common theme, however, was finding more space for human connections; for more people, be it inside or outside our farm circle.
My photographs would be the last, so it was quite obvious who had taken them. I did not necessarily recall all pictures, so it was nice to see them again. Interestingly, the four pictures he highlighted from my bunch were precisely the ones I had already uploaded a couple days ago on the blog, plus the first picture I was really fond of taking after arriving at the farm (and, again, this same day) ; one of them β the outside window of the kitchen β he found particularly striking, and invited me to write some words on the margins remaining from having printed a horizontal picture on a vertical page; "you seem like one that enjoys writing", I seem to recall hearing from him.
Of course, I was quite nervous, a little anxious, to finally see the results in print and get some feedback; I do not quite fully understand the process of making things public yet. We discussed some of the motivations behind the pictures β some thoughts have become more clear since last Monday β and I have some more ideas to explore β everyone seemed very fond of the kitchen interior picture, which I suppose is due to how relatable it is: that is the view we all get when entering it from the house's main entrance. I believe there is room to explore these ever-present images that are part of our routine; I have similarly very strong feelings toward the white log we have just in front of our terrace. Last year it was a standing tree, but they had to cut it; and now, it's usually the first thing I see in the morning after leaving the house, or a place where my eyes naturally rest when I absentmindedly look around while sitting outside.
From everybody's handful of selected pictures, we decorated the walls of the kitchen, which is simultaneously our dining room. I suppose some of the imagery will be more ingrained in our present experience. After almost two hours, he asked if we had any further questions: I had none, but I wouldn't mind having more photography book references to explore β he promptly recalled Hayahisa Tomiyasu's ping pong table pictures, and showed us some books he had brought from other photographers and friends.
Simon hung around with us a little longer; he's a very affable person and seems to never shy away from an opportunity to talk with someone. We are meeting again very soon, in a little over ten days.
