The past few weeks have been laced with exhaustion. I would ask myself what fresh hell the fates could come up with, how much shit I'd have to wade through to get to some point far off in the distance that signalled an end to whatever this limbo was. And I'd wallow in the apparent hardship of things not working out quite as planned, also because I had not in particular planned anything.
But the tides have turned somewhat. May the odds be ever in your favour, and all that.
One of the reasons is that I get to see JR on a daily basis. The new job is situated in an old industrial area that is being gentrified to seduce startups and other exciting medium-sized enterprises to use the tall stone buildings as bases. One of the towers features an image that was part of JR's 2013 project Wrinkles of the City where the portraits of an older generation on buildings that have equally stood the test of time indicate how people grow and change with the hardships and joys that their cities experience.
I wonder if this will be true again in 50+ years when a portrait is created of this generation, a generation that is constantly on the move and wanting to experience the world. Do we all have a home? A place we cling to, a place we can return to, when all else breaks away? Or do places and spaces become increasingly irrelevant as concepts of what home is in a time of crisis have to adapt to people being driven by the hundreds of thousands out of the cities that were once theirs?
Questions for another day.
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