archives works marathon
at raumexperimente, berlin, november 2013
many thanks to my “dream team” thomas and liselotte meyer, samantha leiva and oliver fuchs, for the great support during the marathon, and for lynn, christina and eric for the care, understanding and everything!
My mother’s food, the taste of emotions and memories. When I think of my mother, it does not take long for memories, smells, and tastes from my childhood to come to mind. I remember the smell of rice and beans coming from the kitchen as I slept. The pressure cooker whistled, the kitchen breathed and Dona Antonia sang while she washed the dishes in the sink. I remember the foods she made for my birthday and my sister’s birthday while we painted and decorated the house. It was food that we were not allowed to eat until the time of the party, and so it had a special flavor when we were able to get a taste of it early. The Heart of Palm Pie that I brought to school every Wednesday, the burned scarlet eggplant, the little ball of rice, the miso soup, that “always the same food”, all separately prepared, without seasoning and extremely delicious. Remembering that soup, that was becoming more and more tasty during the days i had cold. The memory of the flavor and emotions contained within food is so strong that some people say that even after we die our spirits continue remembering them. It is because of this that many religions, such as Buddhism, for example, usually use a deceased person’s favorite foods in certain rituals.