Dear Naja,

You were impressed by your dream and needed to think what to do with it. It was such a strong image and you wanted to cherish it. You decided to bring your dream to the beach and imagine it in the landscape where it was coming from. So you packed your bag (extra jacket, raincoat, rain pants, bottle of water, pen and paper) and hopped onto your bike.

At the top of the dune you stood still. The wind was blowing around your head. The beach was grey, the tufts of grass were dark green, the sea was also dark and the watchtower was overlooking it all.

You imagined a red string close to the coastline. And another one, with a curl in it. And another one, a bit further to the east. Now that you were more attentive, you saw that the whole coastline was covered with these strings, as if the sea had washed them up like huge pieces of bright red seaweed.

You walked down the beach to have a closer look. Halfway, the first string looked more like a coral: it was a body consisting of bodies, an elongated organism containing several individual beings. The organism was huge. Its individuals were huge. They were the same size as you. Their bodies were cocoon shaped, no tentacles or loose ends, only a head sticking out. It wasn’t clear where one individual stopped and the next one began; the cocoons and the connective tissue of the organism were from the same material. You noticed that the cocoons moved slightly and in relation to each other, and when the distance between individuals became bigger, the cocoons seemed to tighten, they had to, because otherwise the tissue would tear. The effect was that when others became more distant, the individuals were holding themselves more closely, within that body they were all in.

You realized that you brought into being a species that had some answers to the question about how to survive in this vast, barren landscape. About how to find holding.

You sat down on the sand. You were longing to be swaddled by a stranger. You were ready to surrender to the act of being tucked in, being held by the comfortable pressure on your body, and hearing someone tell you about the bright red coral- like species that had some solutions for the future. But the circumstances didn’t permit swaddling. The wind was so hard that sharp sand strings whipped your face. This landscape seemed to enlarge everything: heat, wind, grains of sand, feelings, other species… only you were the same size again. You, and the watchtower. After awhile you stood up and left. How could you stay?

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