Nida note 2
One of my favourites scupltures in Nida is the ligthouse-library by the lagoon. I like to pass by it on my evening walks. It reminds me of the light books bring into our lives, and the way they can help us navigate through difficult times.
In the beginning of March, I visited Klaipėda public library for the first time. I was cordially greeted and given a tour of the stunning building. Among the things I saw was an exhibition of items Lithuanians had taken with them into exile during WWII . I noticed a pair of carefully mended wool mittens with octagrams knitted into them, for good luck and protection. The octagram is a beloved symbol in Estonia, too, and I felt like those mittens could have been on display in a similar exibition back at home. They became a symbol of similarities between Lithuania and Estonia, and as a poetic image, made their way into one of my poems.
Walking is part of writing, a source of inspiration, a method. When I go out, I usually carry a notebook with me, where I record feelings, associations, impressions, and encounters. Later, I shape them into lines and images, which, if I’m lucky, merge into poems over time. The forest is full of animal trails like long lines of a poem. On my walks, I’m learning to read the landscape of the Curonian Spit.
*The “Artist Residencies” project is funded by the Nordic Council of Ministers.
