Dear Niko,

I’m sitting at my desk at home in the sun since a few hours. Last night I started working on a trailer for The Project, and looking through the large amount of footage from the past month, I went through many different emotions. I feel overwhelmed mostly, probably. I realised I need a place in my life, a secret island, where The Project doesn’t exist. Don’t get me wrong, it excites me that The Project is consuming my entire life, I invite this to happen with great appetite. But with that said, I really need a cave to hide away in once in a while, to breathe, reset, indulge in an entirely different reality for a moment. 

I’ve been thinking about this quote from Lena Dunham: 

“Romance was the only way I knew to completely forget about my obligations, to obliterate the self and become someone else.” 

And that’s it. That’s what I need in this phase of my life: Romance as a form of escapism. 

On Sunday morning as I was about to fall asleep after the Heartbreak Party, I thought about whether you’d felt sad during the evening.. When you texted me that you decided not to come to the reading, I felt a punch of sadness in my stomach, and I felt trapped and sort of paralysed in my response-options. I don’t want to lead you on, into a utopia where you will get from me what you’re looking for. And I also don’t want you to be stuck in a self-effacing compromise, stuck in a Ronja-cage that will become your zone of heartbreaking comfort as time passes, cause you think that what’s outside of it might be worse. Maybe the best way to describe to you what I mean exactly, is by letting you read an excerpt from the text I read out loud at the Heartbreak reading: 

“I feel like I’m going through a tunnel these days”, I start explaining to Niko. “I’m transitioning to some other side, and I don’t know what’s there exactly. I also don’t really care, cause I’m so in love with everything that’s happening in here in the tunnel”, I tell him, we’re still sitting in his kitchen, he’s wrapped his warm hands around my ankles now. He’s looking at me with eyes bursting with self-control: “Don’t fall. Stay at the abyss of reality”, they scream. “I’ve never felt more close to my work”, I continue. “Everything is possible inside this tunnel. I want to look at everything without distractions. One thing I’ve found in here is this photo. It’s black and white, rather old, but still sharp around the edges. It’s depicting flames in the shape of a female figure, in a sort of dancing posture. It’s my autonomous spirit. She’s got horns on her head, deep, dark eyes, full of thirst. She’s looking me straight into my eyes, saying: “It’s me. Don’t forget me again.” I look at TL’s shivering eyes, then jump: “I’ve come to realise that I don’t want a partner at all. And if you want to keep seeing me, you have to accept that”, I say and TL immediately scoff. “I don’t believe that you can really exclude the possibility of you being in a thriving relationship one day”. My autonomous spirit rolls her eyes. We’ve heard this before. It’s always the same. They never believe me when I tell them that I’m not the girlfriend they’ve been looking for. Cause I don’t want to be their girlfriend. And that’s really a part of the problem, it starts there. It’s not that I don’t know what I want, really. It’s that what I want is unacceptable to them. Cause what I want is not what they want. And they’ve got the societal norms on their side. And after a while of sleepless nights of negotiations and tears, one of us makes a heart-wrenching, deep-cut-compromise: Either he tries to fit into the almost invisible frame of the “Lovership” I’ve set for him, exerting all of his energy into fulfilling my ideal relationship-model, and thereby putting himself in an eternal position of dreaming and waiting, giving me so much power that I eventually start to feel bored and trapped by his hopeless devotion. Or I give in to the conventional girlfriend-boyfriend model, exerting all of my energy into adapting to this lifestyle of tedious twosomeness, while I loose track of my sense of self, the relationship an all-consuming, merciless vampire bite, and everything around me starts fading and dying. Including my art. Then the big disruption comes, the distortion, usually initiated by me, rehab, cheating, freedom, finally, again.

Of course my text should be seen as an example of how I turn my own life into an artwork, more so than a direct witness to what actually happens. But still, there is a lot of truth to be found in there. It’s a different kind of witness, maybe a kind of confession even. Confessions of an art whore.

So.. I’ve been thinking about whether it’s wise to see each other this week. Whether it’s wise to see each other at all. In this moment, I’m locating two big fears inside of myself:

I’m scared of trapping the both of us in something that might be very hurtful in the long run, especially for you. 

I’m scared of loosing people, good people, and eventually be trapped in the consequences of my own making, only left with bitter remorse and silent loneliness. 

It would be really nice to create a soft, warm, lovely lovership together, where we see each other once or twice a month, or every other month, when we want to escape our own realities and melt together in romantic sensuality. It would be nice if you could be my little island that I could go to, whenever everything starts to feel too consuming, and I need to let myself be consumed by something entirely different, to forget about my obligations, obliterate myself and become someone else for a moment. It would be really nice. 

But something tells me that that’s my utopia. Cause you’ve been very clear about what kind of life and what kind of relationship you want. So in the light of your honesty and my honesty, is seems that this fantasy of mine should stay a fantasy. Cause neither one of us should be making that big of a compromise. 

I don’t think it would be healthy in the long run.

I’m curious to know what you think though. Take the time you need to respond. And if you don’t feel like responding at all, that’s okay too. 

I brought the disposable cameras to have them developed. I’m especially looking forward to see the photos I took of you on our last night together. I think it will be special. R.