Day 11 — ( that is counting the days at papa Douala too) Workshop in Woluwe-Saint-Lambert
Today no spiral. But still project. Honestly, I’d lost sleep over it — I’d stopped in Anderlecht and wanted to continue there, but a sore leg, the Zinneke, the Parcours d’Artistes… it went differently. And then that endless question looping in my head: do I take a smaller cart? Public transport? Leave early? Stay? I couldn’t decide.
So I did what I always do when I can’t decide: I just didn’t. Got to bed on time, slept enough, and in the morning I’d see. And what came was: take Sybille and walk. Spiral or not, it doesn’t matter. This is the project too.
Twenty children. Six to ten years old. Half girls, half boys. We sat in a big circle on the floor, I learned their names, they kept calling me “Juf, Juf” — Dutch for teacher — and I told them what I do. About the walking. About the question I ask people along the way. About working with found things, thrown-away things, fabric and whatever the street offers up. I introduced Sybille l’atelier mobile, and they were immediately curious.
Then we went outside to look for rubbish in the bushes. And they were so excited. So excited. The way only children can be about something an adult would walk straight past. They brought back all kinds of things — the beautiful and the less beautiful. We talked a little about why things end up in bushes in the first place.
Back inside, each child chose three pieces of fabric. They cut, they composed, they handed me things to sew. It was busy and loud and good. At the end everyone presented their work to the group. I made a photo of us all together.
Their answers to the question — what makes you feel at home? — were so predictable and so beautiful at the same time. Mum and dad. The dog. My bed. My books. My diary. The house. Simple things. True things.
This was a work week themed around geographical shapes — squares and circles — and artists who work with that. I was glad to be part of it. It felt right, even if I wasn’t on the spiral, I make the rules right?
Nine kilometres to get there with Sybille, nine back. A day that’s not on the spiral. But that belongs to it anyway. I met somebody when I was resting a little bit, she recognised me from the weekend at papa Douala! Coincidence???
It goes how it goes. It will become something. Just not what I planned. And I’m learning, slowly, that that’s fine.
