At last

This morning, the rain was pouring down.

Having slept far too little, I dazedly looked out the window whilst drinking my coffee and wondering how on Earth I'd be able to get my stuff to the City Library without having it all instantly soaked. The answer was found in a large, black plastic trash bag, which I cut open and wrapped around the case containing most of the exhibition material. Then I left for the Gothenburg morning.

The library does not open till 10:00 on weekdays, but after having phoned a number given to me, a friendly janitor showed up and let me in and the work could thus begin.

After approximately one and a half hours of climbing ladders and ledges, I had finally finished this part of the work. More features are to come, but they'll require my presense so it will be on delay till tomorrow.

Last but not least, I'd like to thank all of those who in one way or another have assisted me concerning this part of the project as well as concerning my other research. May it be for providing me with facts, all kinds of practical assistance or inspiration - it's all equally worth to me.

Vlad Bustorshin

Andre Friesen

Yevgen Goncharenko

Lennart Guldbrandsson

Magnus Hagerman

Marcus Harrison

Nicolas Huck

Lars-Göran Johansson

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Aleksandr Konevalov

Oleg Petrenko

Arkadiusz Podniesinski

Josef Pollak

Oleksandr Rybak 

Aleksandr Strannik

Vladimir Umnyakov

Anton Usov

Janne Wallenius
Yuri Zaritsky

Johan Åstrand

...Thank you!

The exhibition will be on from today till the 18th of September.

Monday - Friday: 10:00 - 20:00
Saturday: 11:00 - 17:00
Sunday: 11:00 - 17:00


Admittance: Free.

What will come?

On my way to reactor blocks 5 and 6. Last day in Chernobyl, It was one kind of ending.

As I write this, a little almost 26 hours have passed since I completed my work for the exhibition. I'm now ready to set it all up. But realizing I had finished, didn't give me a sense of accomplishment; rather was I sad that it had all finally come to an end, and the feeling stays with me, even more than one week prior to the exhibition. This has come to  make me wonder about the purpose of it all. -Was all this work really for the exhibition or was the exhibition just an excuse to perform this work? Both are true, and at the same time neither is true.

The more I've learnt and come to know about Chernobyl and the many branches that spread from there, the more I realize how much more there is to find out. The exhibition was and is a solid goal and at this point I am questioning myself, because I want to see beyond that, and currently it only feels like things have come to an end. 

As any creating, researching person, I'm used to this and I know that it will pass, but at this point I can only think of that I need to get back to the Zone, and that I need to find out more. And I need to find out, if I don't already know, about the impact that Chernobyl has had on me, as I suspect that it may be larger than I ever imagined. I'm not regretting anything, I'm merely curious.

The other day I met a good friend. We had lunch, and amongst all the subjects of our discussions, I briefly aired my loose thoughts of eventually writing a book about Chernobyl. My friend seemed very interested in this, but as he is an author, he needed to ask me why I want to do it, and what reason people have to care about Chernobyl.  I admit to have been confused by this question, because what reason do people have not to be concerned? 

Maybe I became spoilt. Maybe I received too much encouragement and maybe I didn't meet enough people asking me about why I care about the old disaster. 

I started to answer his question. "Because I need to" wasn't an answer good enough, but before I knew it, I had given more reasons than I was even aware of that I had and in the midst of all that, my friend was suddenly pleased, because in his opinion I had mentioned things, reasons,  that are valid enough for people to care outside my biased sphere. "It's the unknown" was one of those answers given and it's true. I many aspects, Chernobyl was, is and will be a mystery, just as it has its past, present and future. It's come to develop a life of its own and many people who have encountered the Zone, regardless of profession, are bound to agree. They may be nuclear physicists, biologists, zoologists, physicians, artists, writers,  journalists or tourists - no matter what profession or title, we can all agree to one thing: It's largely unknown, and to us it's dangerous, because no one knows what will come.

And thus I don't know what will become of this. I only know that the Chernobyl project continues.

Who is writing this?

It's impolite not to introduce yourself - especially if you're trying to be official about something. Today I noticed that this blog has had 146 viewers just over the last 24 hours, and far from all of you can know who I am, so allow me now to make a brief introduction of myself. 

Katja.

My name is Katja. In spite of my name, I'm neither Russian nor Ukrainian, but Sweden is the country of my origins. I live in Gothenburg, where I do most of my business as an artist and employee at the Gothenburg observatory.

Now you may wonder how come that I became so interested in Chernobyl? I could not explain this in enough objective words, but this isn't a new fascination of mine, but something that has been following me for years - ever since I was a child and first learnt about the disaster in April 1986. Already at that time I could read very well, and my interest for science was very strong. The for me new concept of radioactivity then captured my interest, but of how it would affect things, I knew nothing. 

Since then things have changed and my knowledge has grown. History and the human aspects of Chernobyl now thrills me more than the scientific one, and this year I finally could visit the zone, and it increased my interest even more. In this case I'm a researcher and my goal is to find out as much as I can.

But enough of these rants. Stand by for more articles instead.