„laughter like rasping wood
and on the phone turkish i don’t understand,
a language the shape of an aubergine.
perhaps they like to hoist furniture into the air,
or a child they love.
smells of damp wood and leaves,
olive oil and peace.“
from a prose portrait by julia weber (2018)
at a literature festival in basel you could sit for a double portrait: julia weber wrote sketches in poetic prose. i tried photographic instant portraits. there were typewriter tunes and developer fumes, unrushed smells to forgotten soundscapes.
thanks to mariann bühler & colleagues for the hospitality.