I am writing as me being on the day of, as this was when I started, but writing it took longer - my heart wanted to take it really slow.
Today was heavy with grief, but beautiful. I went to teamLab Borderless, the main place I wanted to bring Carlos to, ever since around the same time last year, when I visited it - and was gushing with inspiration that I wanted to share.
I recognized, on the way there, that this was the pilgrimage that I set out to. And a deep “saudade”, in that heaviest sense of the word - that agonizing mix of sorrow, gratitude, longing and surrender - fell over me as I was approaching the installation space. I think tears started as soon as I showed the QR-code and went through the gates. But that sinking feeling that this was not only a place of arrival for me, but a place of bringing the soul of Carlos too, landed heavier and heavier with each step on the floor-lit stairs down into the Borderless labyrinth.
Borderless opens into a large hall, with projections in all directions. Light there feels like it has a purpose, not merely a utility. It paints kinetic stories, evokes moods, and merges these moments around corners and the mutable corridors that guide towards the different dedicated installations there. Reaching that large hall, an intense wave of relief washed over me, as if I had just dropped a very heavy backpack, carrying him there. The weight was still all over me, but it was a different weight - what I now had over me was the realization that there is where I wanted a shrine for him to be made. And that I was still going to carry the weight of missing.
I roamed the hallways there for a while, sometimes thinking I was at peace, sometimes tears rolling down my face, until I sat for a while at this room with an ethereal wraparound projection with a blue/purple/pinkish tint. I shared this moment with someone who carries my heart well, and felt immense gratitude and love with her presence.
Inside Borderless there is a tea place, where projections are placed on top of the tea servings. There I got on the phone with Marina, another wonderful friend that I met through Carlos - we shared a talk, which I feel bad for not being entirely present due to the weight of the moment. As I was sending some more messages to that first person, a little projected butterfly flew towards my teacup, in a poignant moment of what felt in me was a blessing from Carlos.
I roam through Borderless for an hour more. And I feel the weight let off, as if the spirit of Carlos can make itself roam through the place more comfortably as time passed. I went back out, through the same gate as the entrance, and felt a deep and solemn gratitude, for the pilgrimage, and for having delivered a piece of mine and Carlos’s soul in a shrine for our mutual inspiration.
