Birds never shut up in Vantaa. If they would, it would be a definite sign of a looming apocalypse. So I’m happy and grateful that they keep getting on my nerves 24/7 outside of my window. All is well. The World is still moving.
My first impression of Gjutars Artist House was exactly this: birds, trees and three rabbits that I counted while smoking on the balcony. Also, that it’s NOT Tartu. I really appreciated escaping my otherwise beloved hometown.
There are things in common between the two towns: a river and perhaps a little sleepy artist community. But there’s also a distinct difference in the air. While Vantaa embraces its suburban identity, Tartu is anxious to set itself apart from Tallinn. And falls asleep while trying.
Maybe it’s useless to note such things as none of the locals would actually agree with me, but it’s the laid back feel hanging above the bridges connecting Vantaa and Helsinki. And the fact that you would not know which side you’re on if not told so. And the fact that no one really cares.
I had to bike through a forest…to get to K-rauta. Nothing dramatic, really, but the ever-expanding city can become unnerving at some point. I’m a small town girl. I like when things have recognizable borders.
The day I cleaned up the studio and got it all ready for work, I wrote in the notebook: #vantaaexpanding.
So I tried a little being without borders. Well, I just tried to forget about them, really, as I was still very much aware of them. I think that for a while I managed to get them out of my head, because the center, the local, the Gjutar’s garden, my balcony, the birds become so loud and demanding.
I really liked the satellite picture of Gjutars on Google.
If you don’t have borders, absolutely anything, anywhere can become the center, a starting point.
