Diary of Francesca – 2
A painting workshop has become a canvas on which to weave relationships and trust. A chance,
Time to share,
A small breathing window in a daily life full of problems to solve.
Safiya is 24, her daughter Nawal, 4.
We go pick them up at the place they are staying, take them with us to where the workshop will be held and walk in together, into a big, decorated room.
Both are shy, they don’t really know where to sit or what to do.
Nawal squeezes my hand.
We take off our shoes, I sit on the ground with them, and we begin writing our names on the back of the blank canvases.
Shortly after, Munay and her 3 kids get there as well, the other Sudanese family we are looking after for a while, and that, once asylum was granted, was abandoned by the system, suddenly without housing, even with small children, forced to live on the streets, in a park, wherever.
Today, for a few hours, while in the nearby office there is a constant search for a home for all of them, we simply try to be there, to be together, to get to know each other a bit.
There is paint scattered around, brushes, hesitant hands, kids quick to choose.
There are defined drawings, longings for home and dreams.
There are giggles, awkward moments, voices in the background and paint stains on clothes.
And, at the end of the afternoon, there are our canvases, full of odd combinations, layers of colors, sometimes strong, sometimes nearly invisible.
“We use all the colors. None of them is wrong”.
Isn’t living together more like this, rather than the idea of uniformity?
Leaving space to other people’s colors without asking for them to become like ours.
OPERAZIONE COLOMBA
