TRACE OF A FRIENDSHIP 

to ShwanDler
 Honesty = equality
 what a fine language
 Norwegian is but not my Norwegian but
 this is about
 you not me my dear
 my friend

I remember well the day some years ago when I 
came home 
from some heavy session  - that was characteristic of who I was then
 'characteristic' is a word I
 have learned from you

and there a note 
 in my mailbox

Hi Kate Pendry - said the note -  I'm
 your neighbor and
 my friend Shwan Abdoullah 
 is a student at the Art Academy he's
 doing a masters
 degree
 and want to meet you
 if that''s possible
 to talk about work
 Here is his number

and the first thing I thought was
 Fucking groovy 
 that someone has used my actual mailbox to get in touch with me and 
 the second thing I thought was that I need more contact with 

Muslim men
because I am afraid of them
and it is true
 and I should be ashamed but
 it was true but
not true now

We met and you were sick. Your face was pale and slightly blue and also
grey because your heart was about to give up
and could barely pump blood

But that was not something you talked about much, just in passing and you did not complain
 and you've never complained
 and I apologise for my poor Norwegian
he poverty of words
but I do not paint, or if I do
only with words

So we talked about your art, you
needed a tutor for your Masters
and I almost laughed
because you of all I the guys I've ever met, you were one who needed no tutor

maybe just someone who could help carry your shield
 for a while

I saw documentation of your art work that day if 
I remember correctly

memory

be patient

we sat in that meeting and I cried but not so that you could see
and I thought
 Bloody hell and bless my hat, I've discovered a genius.
You have done well in supplying me with endless cups of coffee when we work together. 
 You drink tea, but I need coffee.
We have talked about everything under the sun and that has been part of the work 
 but it has never been work 
 when I work with you. 

We never talk about the Labour Party in particular. They have hurt you, you and yours. I support them.
I'm not ashamed.
We've talked about Saddam eh? What a shit head!
We've talked about Breivik. 
Also. 

Evil. 

About New Year's Eve 2011, when the firework-rockets flew over Oslo, and we agreed it was not so fucking
appropriate 

that year.

We've talked about mothers. You had a happy childhood and were never beaten. I, the reverse. You who survived a war. I, who didn't. You who waited twelve years for an answer from the immigration office, and I just three weeks. You are a man.
 I'm not.

We like Obama. You laughed in the hospital - they had opened you up to fix your beautiful broken heart. You lay in bed and I cried but not so that you could see. And I had bought an historic issue of Time magazine to you, with Barack Obama on the front page. Because it seemed that finally there was hope.

And the day came and the day came, the day I sat on a bus to Skien and you called and I did not have

time
for you
I'm ashamed 
 I had time 

but that day l was heavy with with depression so you said
sorry dear
- you've always called me dear
sorry I
just wanted to say
I - that they gave me residency
I can stay

And I whooped out loud so loud the driver glanced in the mirror - 
then back at the road cos there was 
no danger

there was 
no danger

and this time I did not hide my tears because it is the only time in my life I have
 cried with joy.

I could write a book about my journey with you my friend.
Maybe I should. Maybe it's already begun.

We two cheerful, militant humanists: we who know the difference between shit and cinnamon.
You are cinnamon, brother. You are art.
And I think
 the world is a better place

because of 
 you.


Kate Pendry
 The Spirit Art Centre Skien. April 6, 2013
 Opening of The Salt Kiss I, II and III - Shwan Dler Qaradaki.