Taneli Rautiainen: Koira juoksee

…perhaps, I said, but on the other hand, I continued, isn’t it a pure coincidence that the particular recess was mentioned because, after all, we don’t often revisit our school days, it could just as well have happened that you never ran into our old teacher in the escalator, and we wouldn’t have ended up talking about primary school, and I would have never told you about the recess at the end of fifth grade, rather, my grownup friend said, your flawed memory of that moment in May was a bubble, the bursting of which was only a matter of time, my grownup friend continued and smiled as if thinking about something very private, smiled and continued, since no bubble lasts forever, no, I said, it doesn’t, but even then, I continued, I might have just told you about me and my soul sister picking dandelions during recess, by the side of the road, outside of school grounds, I would have talked about gentle wind, peacock butterflies and my soul sister’s bare shoulders, the scent of her skin, when we were side by side and our arms occasionally touched, sometimes so gently that it was only the hair on our skins brushing against each other, and the recess didn’t end too soon after all, as it usually did, but when the bell rang, it felt like we’d been picking dandelions for a small eternity, this is all I would have told you, and I would have not even mentioned the black-headed gulls, and then, I said, you most likely would not have asked how many shrieks of the black-headed gulls fit into our small eternity, and this dilemma, which you called metaphysical, this metaphysical dilemma would not have occupied your mind, and you would not have thought of your own memory from the same recess at the end of May in fifth grade when the school bells didn’t ring, and me and my soul sister didn’t show up at the first half of the two-hour arts class, we only went to the second half and even then we were late, when the bells worked again, I said and I believe I had the same inward smile as my grownup friend a moment ago, and me and my soul sister didn’t even notice that we’d missed the first hour, which caused you and the other classmates to rag on us because you were annoyed by how me and my soul sister were always together and how we would lose track of time, but the teacher swiftly silenced you and made the two of us get to work, and nobody mentioned the whole matter after that class again, it simply was somehow forgotten, that’s what you explained, nearly irritated, but I just didn’t hear you anymore, because all I heard was the black-headed gulls, running water, wind blowing, skin on skin, and the peacock butterflies.

Text: Matias Riikonen, 2018
Translation from Finnish: Hanna-Leena Vainio

The exhibition has received support from Arts Promotion Centre Finland and The Finnish Cultural Foundation.