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resilients:surrender_travelogue [2013-02-27 15:44] 109.129.224.173resilients:surrender_travelogue [2013-03-06 04:11] (current) alkan
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 A travelogue by Shelbatra Jashari A travelogue by Shelbatra Jashari
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 === Blown by the wind === === Blown by the wind ===
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 We are awaiting the arrival of the [[the pollinators|Peregrini/Pollinators]] -- but the bora has delayed them. This group of artist-journeyers has been biking their way across half of Europe from Poland to Rab in an epic “karma biking” adventure, a pilgrimage and experiment in resilient modes of cultural transport. I interviewed the participants once they arrived in Rab, listening to their multifaceted and often passionate tales. We are awaiting the arrival of the [[the pollinators|Peregrini/Pollinators]] -- but the bora has delayed them. This group of artist-journeyers has been biking their way across half of Europe from Poland to Rab in an epic “karma biking” adventure, a pilgrimage and experiment in resilient modes of cultural transport. I interviewed the participants once they arrived in Rab, listening to their multifaceted and often passionate tales.
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 +<html><iframe width="100%" height="166" scrolling="no" frameborder="no" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=http%3A%2F%2Fapi.soundcloud.com%2Ftracks%2F81676366"></iframe></html>
  
 <html><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/foam/8511155777/" title="pollinators by _foam, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8505/8511155777_0b26dc5323_c.jpg" width="800" height="600" alt="pollinators"></a></html> <html><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/foam/8511155777/" title="pollinators by _foam, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8505/8511155777_0b26dc5323_c.jpg" width="800" height="600" alt="pollinators"></a></html>
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 Dario changes your perception of the world. A collage of contradictions and a wise mountain guide, he leads us through the wild, helps us tell the good herbs from the bad, advises us on resilient food and drink and regales us with tales, songs and reflections on wild garlic, ticks, and sleeping. (He convinced me that your legs should always be higher than your head when you sleep -- this was supposed to have some kind of beneficial effect on longevity.) During nights in the open the sounds of stars and wild animals are a background to the hilarious soundtrack of the snoring group. It is so conforting to find a home in meandering and the open air. Dario changes your perception of the world. A collage of contradictions and a wise mountain guide, he leads us through the wild, helps us tell the good herbs from the bad, advises us on resilient food and drink and regales us with tales, songs and reflections on wild garlic, ticks, and sleeping. (He convinced me that your legs should always be higher than your head when you sleep -- this was supposed to have some kind of beneficial effect on longevity.) During nights in the open the sounds of stars and wild animals are a background to the hilarious soundtrack of the snoring group. It is so conforting to find a home in meandering and the open air.
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 +<html><iframe width="100%" height="166" scrolling="no" frameborder="no" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=http%3A%2F%2Fapi.soundcloud.com%2Ftracks%2F81783318"></iframe></html>
  
 <html><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/foam/8511117325/" title="UnmannedResilienceGroup by _foam, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8234/8511117325_0fa9dc811f_c.jpg" width="800" height="600" alt="UnmannedResilienceGroup"></a></html> <html><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/foam/8511117325/" title="UnmannedResilienceGroup by _foam, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8234/8511117325_0fa9dc811f_c.jpg" width="800" height="600" alt="UnmannedResilienceGroup"></a></html>
  
-I encounter Kenny and Hafid on my way back from doing some hanging exercises in the mountain trees. Their arrival is a sign that we're nearing “civilisation” again, as they take out their computers ASAP and start debugging the SiNuNi, their weather and land recording device. The SiNuNi collects data from sensors, stories from people and locations from a GPS. With the entire hiking group we find our way to the first mountain hut after two days of travelling. There we find real food and drinks.+I encounter Kenny and Hafiz on my way back from doing some hanging exercises in the mountain trees. Their arrival is a sign that we're nearing “civilisation” again, as they take out their computers ASAP and start debugging the SiNuNi, their weather and land recording device. The SiNuNi collects data from sensors, stories from people and locations from a GPS. With the entire hiking group we find our way to the first mountain hut after two days of travelling. There we find real food and drinks.
  
 Are there any goats in the Gora mountains -- and if so, where are they hiding? Back in “civilisation,” the most memorable moments for me are ATOL pilots’ drone tests on the first night. The drones had a sci-fi ninja triangle shape that made me think of a Daft-Punkish anime. They flew over the region of our hike during the night and sent detailed images back to us. The next day we sat down and tried to spot the goats in the aerial photos. They were nowhere to be found. In desperation, some of us started Photoshopping the goats into the images; others  started seeing dragons and lots of other creatures in a hallucinating pixelfest. But the mystery remained -- where did all the mountain goats go? We asked ourselves if it was due to the weather, or if they’d all been eaten by the wild bear that was at large (and also stalking us). Our speculations became more and more improbable and crazy -- but we never solved the mystery. Are there any goats in the Gora mountains -- and if so, where are they hiding? Back in “civilisation,” the most memorable moments for me are ATOL pilots’ drone tests on the first night. The drones had a sci-fi ninja triangle shape that made me think of a Daft-Punkish anime. They flew over the region of our hike during the night and sent detailed images back to us. The next day we sat down and tried to spot the goats in the aerial photos. They were nowhere to be found. In desperation, some of us started Photoshopping the goats into the images; others  started seeing dragons and lots of other creatures in a hallucinating pixelfest. But the mystery remained -- where did all the mountain goats go? We asked ourselves if it was due to the weather, or if they’d all been eaten by the wild bear that was at large (and also stalking us). Our speculations became more and more improbable and crazy -- but we never solved the mystery.
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 Kosovo defies my expectations every time I return. I love hearing my mother tongue en masse, can't really explain why. This is always my first strong impression -- that and the heat that is a blessing. Funny to notice how my way of speaking has a tendency to change after two weeks in the Balkans. Often I hear that I say “please” and “thank you” too much. Its a source of amusing irritation. Kosovo defies my expectations every time I return. I love hearing my mother tongue en masse, can't really explain why. This is always my first strong impression -- that and the heat that is a blessing. Funny to notice how my way of speaking has a tendency to change after two weeks in the Balkans. Often I hear that I say “please” and “thank you” too much. Its a source of amusing irritation.
  
-I arrive during a time when the whole country is fasting: it’s Ramadan. I decide to try out this form of religious penance as a part of my exploration of spiritual practices of endurance. Unfortunately my efforts are misinterpreted and seen as a fake pose emerging from my own weirdness. Instead of Ramadan I launch into performatic overdrive, climbing pole-shaped objects every day and continuing my hanging series. ((The hanging series is part of an ongoing sequence of performances I’ve been carrying out in the last years, their remnants only visible in photos. The first series was about shaking, the second about jumping. The last one is about hanging.  +I arrive during a time when the whole country is fasting: it’s Ramadan. I decide to try out this form of religious penance as a part of my exploration of spiritual practices of endurance. Unfortunately my efforts are misinterpreted and seen as a fake pose emerging from my own weirdness. Instead of Ramadan I launch into performatic overdrive, climbing pole-shaped objects every day and continuing my hanging series. ((The hanging series is part of an ongoing sequence I’ve been performing for the last five years, their remnants visible only in photos. The first series was about shaking, the second about jumping. The last one is about hanging. The series looks at how one can be playful with the environment and how one's body can adjust to the colours, shapes and circumstances of a landscape so that for a second it can become one with the landscape. moment of perfect unity is created in an image or a glimpse where human movement and the conditioning landscape unite to create a sculptural form. The symbolism of "hangingrefers also to the idea of endurance and strength, to phrases such as "hanging on." It's the absolute triumph of the human body becoming one with alien environments. It's the small victory of a female body defying aesthetics and boundaries within her own realm of possibilities and hanging on with nothing more or less than her own strength.))
-It's an ongoing research into how one can be playful with the environment and how one's body can adjust to the colours, shapes and circumstances of a landscape so that for a second it can becomeone with the landscape. Thus a moment of perfect unity is created into an image or a glimpse where human movement and the conditioning landscape collaborate for creating a sculptural form with different matters. The symbolysm of 'hangingrefers also to the idea of endurance and strangth, to phrasings such as "hanging on"It's the absolute triumph of the human body to become one with environments that are alien and not artistic at all. It's the small victory of a female body defying esthetics and boundaries withing her own possibilities and hanging on to not more or less than her own strength.))+
  
 I have won in my surrender to the law of the worlds. I surrender to simple happiness, becoming part of my environment wherever I go. I have won over belonging and unbelonging. I accept my alienation. I have won in my surrender to the law of the worlds. I surrender to simple happiness, becoming part of my environment wherever I go. I have won over belonging and unbelonging. I accept my alienation.
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 Further down south on the beaches of Albania, the bora wind catches up with me again, showing me the cold, loveless face of the universe once more. In this wind it’s not difficult to imagine the beach as a playground for ghost creatures. I can't hide anymore under the umbrella, they're all closed, the wind is too strong… Further down south on the beaches of Albania, the bora wind catches up with me again, showing me the cold, loveless face of the universe once more. In this wind it’s not difficult to imagine the beach as a playground for ghost creatures. I can't hide anymore under the umbrella, they're all closed, the wind is too strong…
-[could we link to the video here?]+ 
 +link to the video
  
 Berat is one of the oldest inhabited castles in the Balkans and one of the best-preserved Ottoman architectural constructions. The white city, the city of myth, the city of stone. Albania carries myths of stone over from century to century, as if they were  newborn babies. Stone is what is worshipped in traditional albanian culture. Expressions like: he's strong as a stone, your head is a stone… and the myth of Rozafa, the woman that gets buried alive in the walls of her husband’s castle so that it may keep standing. In Albanian culture we strongly believe that only a sacrifice of life can keep a construction solid for eternity. So living being were sometimes buried alive to keep a construction standing and to free it from bad spirits. Berat is one of the oldest inhabited castles in the Balkans and one of the best-preserved Ottoman architectural constructions. The white city, the city of myth, the city of stone. Albania carries myths of stone over from century to century, as if they were  newborn babies. Stone is what is worshipped in traditional albanian culture. Expressions like: he's strong as a stone, your head is a stone… and the myth of Rozafa, the woman that gets buried alive in the walls of her husband’s castle so that it may keep standing. In Albanian culture we strongly believe that only a sacrifice of life can keep a construction solid for eternity. So living being were sometimes buried alive to keep a construction standing and to free it from bad spirits.
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 === Descending to my roots, I climb and hang on… === === Descending to my roots, I climb and hang on… ===
  
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-[Alkan, if we dont link the picture we can take this part out...it dosn't really add much to the content.] 
 Getting lost in order to find myself again I make an effort to reconnect with my roots… and also take the opportunity to explore possibilities for climbing and hanging -- reminding myself that my determination to hang on is the only thing that really matters.  Getting lost in order to find myself again I make an effort to reconnect with my roots… and also take the opportunity to explore possibilities for climbing and hanging -- reminding myself that my determination to hang on is the only thing that really matters. 
  
-[Alkan, if we dont link the picture we can take this part out...it dosn't really add much to the content... +Before heading back to the West I pay tribute to my ancestors. I go up the mountains to honour the Catholic cemeteries in the town of Zym. On the way I come across “Neptune,” a strange and remote cafe that consists of little more than a concrete platform where coffee, food and drinks are served. This could be the perfect place for a performance. It couldn’t get more grey, more concrete, more alien. The space: a backdrop to some Shakespearian play ending in suicides…
-Before heading back to the West I pay tribute to my ancestors. I go up the mountains to honour the Catholic cemeteries in the town of Zym. On the way I come across “Neptune,” a strange and remote cafe that consists of little more than a concrete platform where coffee, food and drinks are served. This could be the perfect place for a performance. It couldn’t get more grey, more concrete, more alien. The space: a backdrop to some Shakespearian play ending in suicides…]+
  
 At the end of my trip I make time to visit my grandmother -- a personal, enduring symbol of resilience for me. A 95-year-old optimist, she lives in the same village where she married 78 years ago. Her daily yoga consists of the traditional Muslim prayers to Allah five times a day, which she practices in her own very unique way. She fascinates me -- the rich simplicity of her life. She is my mastodon and I offer my prayers to her. At the end of my trip I make time to visit my grandmother -- a personal, enduring symbol of resilience for me. A 95-year-old optimist, she lives in the same village where she married 78 years ago. Her daily yoga consists of the traditional Muslim prayers to Allah five times a day, which she practices in her own very unique way. She fascinates me -- the rich simplicity of her life. She is my mastodon and I offer my prayers to her.
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