… 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘦. 𝘐 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦, 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘢 𝘴𝘦𝘢 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘦𝘶𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘢… 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘐’𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘻𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺.*

Jill Bolte Taylor, neuroanatomist and survivor, awoke one morning from uneasy dreams only to find herself suffering from a stroke. She experienced from within the course of events belonging to a phenomenon eerily close to her own research topics applied onto the brains of others. Each crucial second equaled one step closer to encircling the kind of truth she’d been hunting, yet the same spiral movement had her slipping away from the tangibly measurable and into a grammatical soup of sorts. It took her 8 years to recover–whatever that means as panta rei–re-told in her book 𝘔𝘺 𝘚𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘐𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘈 𝘉𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘚𝘤𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘵'𝘴 𝘗𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘑𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘺.

… 𝘐 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭, 𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘭, 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘦. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘥, 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘨𝘪𝘧𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦, 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴! 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳.

It took Jill a mind–body melt-down to reach her Nirvana and the epiphany that Nirvanas are best shared with others. It is wise to be generous and Katarina Nord is a wise child, the kind of child that sticks a leaf in your hand saying ”I found this on the ground and I thought of you and now it's yours forever.” This is the land where the irreversible is reversed, where Innocence Lost is Innocence Reclaimed, where time is endless (never boring nor intimidating, only bewildering), where 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 is a compliment; a land for you to walk, for you to rest, for you to find peace. Katarina laid this land for you. It is a great gift, of the kind that wholeheartedly tries its best to come without a curse. You are lucky to be here and it is 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘺.

Text written by Katarina Sylvan, with quotes and references to Jill Bolte Taylor.

This exhibition was made possible thanks to the support of Helge Ax:son Johnsons Stiftelse.