The sky is full of grey clouds with an undeniable lightness hidden beneath and the slow wind moves the lightest leaves from the ground.
Time is passing slowly
as if someone stretched the thread of it
there is tea,
grape and strawberries.
The conversation flows naturally from the work to life,
to the repetition of a word,
to the universe.
We are here to bake bread.
I bring the flour,
a little of salt and sugar,
and we start mixing with hands.
As soon as we made the first ball of the dough,
I went back,
to the kitchen of "Nan joon"...
I have blurry vision,
"Nan joon" is sitting on the ground,
two giant steel trays in front of her,
dozen balls of dough in them ready from the last night,
and a thin white fabric covering them to not dry.
"Can you bring one of them for me to the oven?" she asks.
by the oven, she means a giant hole in the shape of a cylinder that they dug outside in the garden,
"Baba joon" and "Nan joon" together when they built this house beside the river fifty years ago.
I take one of the trays,
it is heavy for me,
a seven years old thin girl.
It is cold outside,
and the sun shyly is glinting.
I can clearly see her hands and her movements when she puts each one of the bread inside the burning hole to bake.
"Do you want to mix the herbs now?" He asks.
It takes me a few moments to answer
" Yeah! let's mix them now!"
and I think with myself that's the way I remember it.
We make small holes in the texture of the flatten dough to let the heat flows.
the frying pan plays the role of the oven in the garden,
the bread is ready,
in wild natural shapes,
as small as our palms,
as big as the frying pan,
crispy and a bit sour.
I wrap them in a white lightweight cloth.
I grab a fresh one and come back inside,
She is still baking the rest of them.
“Bread” is a collaborative baking project started from Aug 1st, 2019. Every two weeks the project brings together artists around a table for conversation and collective baking experience. The loaves of bread will be distributed among neighbors, family and friends.