Sophio Medoidze

Spam letters to Art Institutions
2006 -

Dear friend,

Forgive me for not writing all this time, of course I have not forgotten about you. The thing is that I have changed a lot since I moved here and if it is true, I have no longer any acquaintances and do not have to write to anyone as I am a complete stranger to them; a small explanation as to why I have not replied to all the letters you’ve sent me. I will also tell you later about my decision to write now.
You are asking if I have learned the language and if I can read and write easily. Well, I don’t know how to explain but I have learnt it without understanding it. For example, sometimes I am walking on the street and somebody asks me for the directions, or something fairly simple, but I cannot explain. Saying that, I have been working as an interpreter at the local hospital for two years now and they even raised my salary last week. It’s a complete mystery as if you remember I was always good at languages, but it seems that my body refuses to speak any other language than ours. It comes like a sudden fit, a reaction to I don’t know what. This has got me into some trouble at the beginning but I got used to now.
Apart from this things are going really well. I have moved to this beautiful town last year, when I got fed up with the city. It’s much nicer here, the climate is mild and people are friendly. They say ‘Hello’ and smile, and I smile back.
I live with my dog Sara in a beautiful stone house in a historic part of the town. Here’s a picture of Sara with the downstairs neighbour, she took her for a walk that day and she broke her knee on the stairs, poor thing. She has not completely recovered since but still insists on taking Sara for a walk.
What else? There is a flower market opposite and it gets very busy on Sundays; the trucks start unloading before dawn and I can hear the workers shouting, giving the directions. Or sometimes there is a huge bang, like the sound of breaking glass and the footsteps of people running to and fro. I never get any sleep on Saturdays but I still try to go there every Sunday to see what I have been hearing overnight and usually it’s a beautiful sight! I have just read that the flower market had been here for a while and the adjacent building where I live now was once a flower storage place.   
The house itself is very old. It’s got a lot of character and my bedroom window is overlooking the river. This can be a bit of nuisance is summer because of the insects, but even then I can put up a net. There is a south-facing garden with a vineyard and last autumn I made hundred litters of wine from the grapes of my own garden. I am still sipping from the last bottle as I write and I assure you it’s quite good.
Every evening I take a walk on the riverside. There are some beautiful bridges and you always see lots of tourists taking pictures. There is one bridge I particularly like and I went to a local library to find out about it. I would have never guessed that it is apparently a replica of a very old bridge that collapsed few years ago killing hundreds of people, as it was a boat race day and the bridge happened to be the best spot for the finishing line. I think not many people know that, some even think that it is the old bridge itself.
Most of my friends are connected to music and I hope to eventually get back to making music again: I shall quit the interpreting job and maybe start giving music lessons. At the moment this is not really possible, due to my fits mainly, as they come and go very suddenly. I had one this morning at the bakery and I ended up buying whatever they thought I wanted. I will try to go there again.
That’s it for now, I can’t think of anything else to write.
Now, I have to ask you a favour and I hope you might be able to help me. The thing is, I have to get rid of these fits, otherwise I might have to come back and that would be a complete disaster... Here is what I want you to do: go to my house, you will find the keys on the shelf above the door (you might need a chair to reach it). Go to the upstairs bedroom and look for a small book with red cover. I am certain I left it on my bedside table, right under the window. Please take the book to the post office and send it to my address. I am certain that the answer to my trouble lies in that small book but I cannot tell you any more than this.

Yours Truly,

Clara Emigrand