I don’t know what it is about this city but I have begun to think of Ulm as my creative place. I am here for one week due to personal family reasons, so if you are reading this and are in Ulm, forgive me if I haven’t been in touch. I am here quietly to help out where I can and then I fly back to Scotland to the thing I should be doing: my PhD. In September I begin my fieldwork for which I have put everything into boxes again and rented a small annex in a hamlet just outside Inverness. I’ll live overlooking the Firth of Bealy with nothing but deer, a wee burn, and a bunch of ticks around me, and I’ll be on the road quite a bit, following the bacteria responsible for Lyme disease, Borrelia burgdorferi.
And I love my PhD. I love my aerial life in Scotland. I love all of it. And so it’s no surprise that the little voice of artistry has starting to sing louder and louder, demanding some attention. It was actually during my Masters in Medical Anthropology, when I kept bumping into Visual Anthropology, that I began to consciously look for a way to return to art, without moving away from anthropology. To live a life of art & anthropology, that is my dream.
I will always circus, but this is not my Profession. (Paradox: circus is actually how I paid the rent the last 7 years. So when I say it’s not my profession, I may be meaning something other than what you expect. If a ‘profession’ is how you pay the rent, then sure, that is clearly my ‘profession’. Except it’s not. Art was, anthropology is, but (aha) art & anthropology are what will be. I have always moved circular, doomed to keep learning the things I already know.)
When I arrived in Ulm yesterday, I went straight to the boxes in my parents’ basement to say hello to my books, my art pieces, and everything from the life I had that I threw in there when I left 7 years ago. I am finally ready to settle, lay some roots, and finally unpack these guys into the home they deserve. I have finally decided to settle somewhere – Edinburgh. (That’s the plan at least. Now let’s watch Life make other plans.) Honestly, I can’t even begin to tell you how exciting the idea of a home feels to me. I had already begun looking around for where to move next, but the idea of leaving kept annoying me and when I decided to stay (I made this decision last week), a massive burden fell from my chest. I am excited to root.
And as the boxes opened, so did the biggest box of all: Qayqa. So I am now sitting here in my parents’ home, in the attic where I used to write, and I am editing her. The attic light is on.
“But what if I re-read her and discover that she’s really bad?” That’s been on my mind. Look, she won’t be perfect. She may not have aged well either. But I’m about to tidy up her hair and fix her hat, because the whole point of the Bachelors was to fill up my glass with knowledge so I could do that. Except I didn’t feel my glass had filled up enough, so I went on to a Masters… And still the glass had some space, and so I worked hard and was accepted into the PhD program… Then, earlier this month and for the first time in 8 years, out my glass was suddenly full. I was sitting in my flat talking to my sister and out of the blue I felt an energy surge in me that I had not felt in years.
I have been writing poetry too, for the first time in years. Poets need a muse and I was also back on African soil for the first time since leaving Nigeria, which inspired the following poem.
You, dusty bushes,
You, red earth
Colour every part of my being –
Dust my hair,
Be the dry cackle in my laugh,
Rub your red glow onto my skin.
I want to become you,
Find you on me and taste of you
So I can straighten out the wrinkles on my face
And watch red earth fall out
I have dreamt of you for 20 years.
So I’ve been scribbling poems again. I’m not saying they will give us world peace or even free coffee, but I’m surprised & pleased because I haven’t done this scribbling in years. I feel like I’m back.
Did you know, when you subscribed to this blog, that is would be such a lifelong process? I didn’t. But here’s how one woman tries to figure out how to balance being an artist with being an academic researcher. Because we clearly can’t choose just one.
I leave you with this stunning art piece by Pamela Phatsimo Sunstrum which I saw at the Zeitz Museum for Contemporary Art Africa (MOCCA) in Cape Town last month, which feels both fitting & inspiring. Check her other work out; her name is linked to her website.
I’ll speak to you again soon, friends. xxx
A Journal on Being a Writer 
Welcome back Ritti!
I knew from the beginning that it will be a very long journey as you opened a completely new chapter in your life once you‘ve decided to go to Scotland for studying. I just didn‘t know if WordPress.com is still online when you get back 🙂
But what are years compared to the art that is created. It will not disappear. Like the words you’ve put in poems or novels. Time is there for us to grow. We gain experience and get inspiration to make the necessary moves and decisions. You‘re saying „we can‘t choose just one“. And you‘re absolutely right in saying this for all of us. But lots of people just choose for one and think they feel comfortable and are staying focused. But later on in life they might realize that there is a missing link that is creativity and to challenge with yourself constantly. So you‘re blessed feeling this energy to pursue both being an artist and an academic researcher. It is the path where you always followed since you were a child. You follow the path of your parents, you just do it your way.
Thanks for sharing this poem with us which seems to be very important for you and where there is still a lot to bring to the surface from the time you‘ve spent there (and will spend in the future): Africa! G.