La libertad es poder mirar al cielo sin miedo -
Like a Christmas story in which some kind of magic happens, an object is thrown into the wind and comes to life.
I invited Farhad Babaei to write a story about kite flying after inviting him to fly the one I made in my residence. In the story written and narrated in Farsi, he imagines freedom by flying a kite. He describes a memory, perhaps a fiction or a dream about the relationship between wind and freedom, a child’s relationship with time and waiting, and the materialisation of desire through the experience of playing. It reminds us that there are many places in the world where looking at the sky is not an option.
The language barrier and territoriality itself are fragmented and meet each other in a single image.
This piece is part of the camp I built this year. It’s part of my project ‘The sum of all the trees together’ which was developed as part of the residency @stiftungkuenstlerdorf . A project hold with the help of my new friends.
It was the first time something was important to me. After nine years, I was waiting for something to happen. My uncle said it would come before sunset, then we could go. I asked, "When's sunset?" Uncle said, "The sunset will come when the afternoon ends. When the sun goes down." He put it in the cellar to wait for sunset and the wind. I thought the wind would start when the sun went down. The wind was afraid of the sun as long as it was out. I had to wait in the yard for the sun to go down. The wind started blowing. I told my uncle, "The wind is coming." He said, "It's not the wind, it's a breeze. It's too weak." I asked, "What is a breeze?" Uncle replied, "A breeze is the child of the wind." I went into the room and fell asleep. My uncle woke me up. I opened my eyes and asked, "Has it come?" Uncle said, "Let's go." We went to the cellar and took the kite. I asked, "Is the wind blowing?" Uncle said, "Yes." I said, "Is that his child?" He said, "No, it's the wind." We went up to the roof. The wind is blowing, said Uncle. Now is the perfect time to fly. The wind touched my face. I held the kite in both hands and stood in front of it. Uncle said, "Stand back. When I say, let it go." The kite's tails flapped in the wind. Uncle opened the kite's string and looked up. The kite slipped from my hands as the wind tried to take it. I asked, "Should I let it go?" He said, "Let it go. Stand next to me!" I let go of the kite. Its paper tails brushed my face as it flew high. I walked over and stood next to my uncle. He was holding the string and watching it. He said, "Look! You're the pilot of this kite! This string is the airplane’s steering wheel." He gave me the string, but I kept the reel. "Pull the string towards you and then let go. The kite will fly higher.” I pulled the string. The kite felt heavy. "It's heavy!" Uncle said, "There's a lot of wind up there." I let go, pulled it again and let go. The kite wobbled in the sky tilting its head up and down "Move the string left or right You can add more string to go further." I asked, "How do I give it more line?" He said, "Ive got the spool. Let out more string and let go of the top so it can go higher." The kite got smaller. I said, "Uncle! How do we get it down?" "Do you want it to come down? Don't you want it to stay up there?" "I do! I want it to stay up there." "When you're tired, tie the string around your wrist, sit here and just watch it." He tied the string around my wrist and handed me the reel. "Hold the wheel tight!" I asked, "What if the string breaks?" "The kite will be free to go wherever it wants. It'll fly high and everyone will see it". I said, "Will they know it's mine?" He said, "Yes! I'm going to take a picture of you. I’ll be back". The uncle left. I sat on the roof with my hands on my knees. The kite string kept pulling. The kite swayed left and right in the sky. I pulled and let go. I gave it more string. I pulled the string to the left. It was heavy. I pulled the string but couldn't give it more. It wouldn't move left or right. untied the knot and held the reel. I stood up. The kite wasn't moving. I let go of the reel and the line unwound. The reel spun, releasing more string. I was giving the kite a lot of line. My hand was getting tired. The wind was now very strong. I shouted, "Uncle! It's heavy! I gave it too much string. My hand is tired!" Uncle didn't answer. I let go of the reel. It fell to the ground. The wind cooled my face. Uncle spoke from behind me: "How's it going, pilot?" The reel kept spinning, unwinding more line. I said, "Uncle! Look! My kite is free." I let go of the wheel. I turned towards him and he took a picture of me.