I am at my parents’ house in Houston, Texas, in my old bedroom from childhood and adolescence. Looking for a book, I began to open the boxes in the closet (in America the closets are spaces as big as some of the bedrooms I’ve lived in at Damanhur), and it unleashed entire worlds and universes. I found the book I was looking for… and everything else.
The photos from New Year’s in Chiapas, Mexico with the Zapatistas together with those of the grave sites of my great-grandparents in Taiwan. Years of documentation of my artistic projects and art books. My mother’s glasses from the 1960s and her traditional Chinese wedding dress (red) that I intended to wear when I got married (hasn’t happened yet). An edition of Romeo and Juliet printed in 1909. My copy of the book Eat, Pray, Love, gifted to me by my sister when I went to Italy in 2007, of which I’ve only read the “Eat” section, because reading the part about Italy while in Italy, I thought I would also read the part about India and Indonesia when I go to those countries (haven’t quite gotten there yet). Letters, art and handmade gifts from many ex-lovers. Vaccination documentation, poetry, nearly a decade of We’Moon with my writing inside, a book of prayers from the hospital I was born in, a complex family tree with names in Chinese and lineages of multiple wives. The black dress my mother sewed for me when I was 16 years old (still fits me).
I ask myself, “What am I going to do with all this stuff?” They are all things precious enough to have survived many phases of clearing out, selling, recycling, giving away and moving. And now? Do I leave it all here? Bring some things with me to Damanhur? Where will I put them? Do I really need them? When will I go to India? and Indonesia? Will I ever come back to live on this continent in this lifetime? Do I burn everything in a bonfire? Will my children (If I ever have children) want to see these relics from the life of their mother and her family? If I don’t figure out where these things are going now, I’ll need to do it someday, anyway.
One thing I know for sure is that every object feels so alive. I sense the vitality, the emotions felt, the love transmitted, the energy invested. and Time… How much information can be conserved within an object… it’s really incredible!
Something else that is certain: I won’t be taking any of this with me into the threshold (the beyond), which is just as well, otherwise we’d need to figure out how to make everything fit in our bedrooms there too. I will bring nothing but the imprint of my experiences on the personalities within, the absolute purity of living every moment fully, here and now.
Dentro l’armadio della Befana
Sono nella casa dei miei genitori a Houston, Texas nella mia vecchia camera da letto da bambina e adolescente. Cercando un libro, ho cominciato ad aprire le scatole dentro l’armadio (negli Stati Uniti gli armadi sono spazi grandi come alcune stanze in cui ho abitato nei nuclei di Damanhur), e si sono aperti tantissimi mondi e universi. Ho trovato… il tutto.