I'm Still Alive
On rituals, notebooks, and the act of starting again
Someone once wrote “I am still alive” on postcards he sent every day to galleries, friends and acquaintances. That artist was On Kawara. Along with that message, he painted the date of the day. He wrote down who he met, collected articles he found interesting, and traced maps of the places he had been.
I often think about the relationship we have with time passing. It’s almost the end March already. The first two months of the year have flown by.
Sometimes I feel a bit like him. The daily ritual. The repetition. The small reassurance of doing what I always do.
In January I promised myself that I would fill SD cards and notebooks. So far, I’ve kept that promise. I bought a notebook and almost every day I made a collage. After working in it for a few days, I realised that I had done exactly the same thing at the beginning of last year.
Which made me wonder: what is an artist? Is someone who stops creating still an artist? Is it the attitude that matters, or simply the act of making things?
I once read that suffering is work in the absence of purpose. Sometimes making art feels like a form of survival. And when we are not making art, we start looking for it elsewhere.
I look for it in everyday moments. Small gestures. Small actions. When I walk through the city, I try to carry a camera with me, not necessarily to take photographs, but because it helps me observe more carefully. It makes me more present.
Last year I spent a lot of time looking at the ground. Searching for small handwritten notes. Thoughts. Shopping lists. Fragments of someone else’s day. I now have a small collection of these notes.
I once told my colleague S. about it. At first he seemed a little puzzled. The next time we met he said he actually found the idea interesting. A couple of times he even brought me notes he had found on the street. So I decided to start sharing some of them here.
I don’t know where it’s going. I’m not sure it matters.
I Found
Handwritten notes found on the street. March 2026.
