Conversation Project with Victor Valqui Vidal. E-mail #2

Sunday January 12th

Dear Victor.

Thank you for your reply to my text. Last Sunday was only my third day at Flux Factory. While I was writing, it felt like my jetlag had returned. In Brooklyn I had a whole apartment to myself and most of the time it was really quiet, almost too quiet for a city like New York. So it was really strange to move in at Flux and suddenly be around a lot of people. My studio is next to the kitchen, which is the biggest space we share, so it gets quite noisy easily and there's a lot of distractions. It's not just fragments from the other residents talks and discussions, that goes trough my walls. There's a ventilation duct in my studio. It's connected to the kitchen in some way. It makes heavy noices when people open the refrigiator, turn on the oven and boil water. Or at least, that's what I imagine. Sometimes, I'm also able to hear when the N or Q train enters the 39 Av platform, which's located close to Flux. In general, noises calm me down. It makes me less restless. I like these new sounds. So after all, to be at Flux Factory feels like home. I feel more comfortable here than I did in Brooklyn.

Your text made an impression. You're not the first one to call me brave. Most of the people I have met so far, have admired the fact that I moved to New York all by myself. I didn't have any friends here to begin with or any other connection to the city besides Flux Factory. People, both friends, family members and strangers, back in Denmark have called me brave too. To be honest, I'm not sure if I consider my act as brave. I'm actually not sure how I would define the word 'brave'. But I have spend a lot of time this week trying to understand that one word.

It's funny you mention "The Ugly Duckling". That fairy tale has always been important to me. Especially as a child. I was happy back then, but still, through out my childhood, I had a constant feeling of being different, as if I came from another planet. My first friend was named Tommy and he/she was invisble. Our ways seperated when I started school, because we both thought it was for the best. In school, I tried to fit in, not because I wanted to, but because I felt I needed to. When it became too much, I would go home to my room and draw or write stories. It got easier with time. As I grew older I established new relationships, made dear friends and learned to navigate in different landscapes.

In folklore (in this case fairy tales), the characters don't try to be anything they're not. And if they go against their nature, they will fail. In reality it's different. It's easier to pretend and get away with playing a role - in short, not to be you.

I guess for me, to be brave is to have the courage to be yourself and not go against what your heart tells you. To be brave is to stand two feet tall, even when people around you want to change you, make you act a certain way, or just put you down.

To re-quote H.C. Andersen and remember his words in another context: “To be born in a duck’s nest, in a farmyard, is of no consequence to a bird, if it is hatched from a swan’s egg.”

In that sense, I see myself as brave. And for each day that passes, New York teaches me to become even braver.