Tuesday, 3 February 2009

Lopsided


I found these on a flea-market in Berlin about 12 years ago: a pair of old children's shoes, stuffed with yellowed newsprint from 1941. They look like two of a pair: one for a left foot, one for a right foot, same make, same leather, similar degree of wear and tear. But the left shoe is remarkably bigger than the right one, extending the length of the palm of my hand, while the smaller one only covers about two thirds of it. Still I never stopped thinking of the two shoes as a pair.
What is the (hi)story of these shoes? They lead me backwards and forward in time. All the pathways that slowly unfold and open up to me are entangled, make up a dense web of history, of experience, of stories told and untold, stories sensed, imagined, suspected. Stories of mine and stories of others. With lop-sided gait I want to tread these paths and see where they take me.

5 comments:

A rambling rose said...

They have a deep sadness about them and take me straight to the work of Doris Salcedo
YOu are a sensitive soul - thank you for sharing your thoughts

Kruse said...

Maybe they are sisters and do belong together. Keep them together because the pain of losing a sister is too much.

redredday said...

i agree with arRose and Kruse. sisters and a deep sadness about them. something so awkward and unsettling about them too. i wonder what will come out from them through you, dear Marjojo...

mansuetude said...

o i just watched two shows about ww 2 aushwitz, etc,

they break my heart,
what was stuffed inside them? I have photographed shoes, old and left. Deleted from the foot, and never knew one so old.

i sigh.

Catherine said...

I think it is remarkable that somebody actually kept them. They themselves would not have been able to throw them away. why do we hoard things, to remind us, to tell us stories, to stir our insides. Sentimental value it is officially called.
looking forward to have your books on the stall!